


Trepidation

by ern_jaeger



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Eremika - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ern_jaeger/pseuds/ern_jaeger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These walls were never meant to protect you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

trepidation: (n) a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen  
syn: unease, anxiety, apprehension 

Sleeping was the thing Eren looked forward to the least. His dreams were almost always dark, like he was stuck in an infinitely-long tunnel with no sign of light to signal an end approaching. It was as if an overwhelming, unimaginably heavy consciousness was following him, threatening to overtake him. And despite his speed and the distance he struggled to keep between himself and it, he was always within its reach, constantly lapping at him like snapping, cracking whips.

It was a driving force in his back as he limped forward weakly, blind in ink, with a hefty boulder atop his staggering shoulders. No matter how fast he urged his legs to run, no matter how badly it hurt, no matter how long forever felt as he forced himself to keep going, Eren never made it to the end. Like there wasn't one.

Other times, quite few in number as of late, there he dreamt in a time where there were no mindless giants banging down his door and snatching up his loved ones. Dreams of peace, where he could wake up without his heart racing, blood pounding in his ears and tears stinging his eyes. Usually in these dreams he was alone, walking nowhere in a place he'd never been before. Sometimes he was joined by many friends, ones he could regocnize by the backs of their heads. Sometimes it was just a couple of them, and even fewer times, only one.

But most nights, in between the seemingly endless hours he stared up at nothing, Eren would find himself in that infinite tunnel, never another shred of daylight or warmth until his eyes pried open and blinded him with his unsettling reality. In the back of his mind he counted the ceiling panels to keep himself even a little sane, until he could fall back asleep and repeat the cycle, or kick the sheets off his body and pull himself out of bed, uncaring of the early morning hour.

Usually these acts disturbed his partner, who could almost always sense his distress. The difference between the two of them was that Mikasa was strong enough to shut out her anxiety long enough to let her sleep, at the cost of feeling like no time had passed when she woke. She didn't have dreams anymore, and Eren loathed her self-calming abilities.

Even if she was there for distraction, she couldn't stay awake with him forever. Mikasa was never good at fighting sleep, no matter how much she wanted to protect Eren from the loneliness he suffered in the late hours of the night. She could only keep her eyes open for so long before they would flutter, and Eren would give up his hopes and coaxe her to sleep.

There was no need to make her suffer through insomnia with him. He was grateful enough that she would attempt to fight tired eyes for him; it was less time he spent alone with his thoughts, which had grown horribly detrimental. Following those were tortorous tunnel vision nightmares in which he was drowning in isolation, or even sometimes peaceful dreams that, upon waking, left him wondering if today would be the day that somebody else died. 

Either one left him hurting in some form or another.

He almost always woke up with a deep, unbearable pain in his chest, one he couldn't escape whether he fell back asleep, or lied awake for hours, or even rose from the bed and made his company with the squad members, putting on a brave face and pretending he wasn't aching.

It was a ruthless cycle that Eren couldn't seem to escape, and it started several months ago, on the most fateful night for all of humanity.

This said night took place in an abandoned cabin, once a temporary headquarters for the former Special Operations Squad.

A failed excursion beyond Wall Rose sent what was left of the Survey Corps, the soliders that hadn't been jailed by the Military Police, the ones brave enough to trek beyond the walls' security clad in civilian clothes--as opposed to uniform--in symbol of breaking away from the monarchy, retreating within the walls. 

All hope was gone. They had been desperate, and what had become of it? The Survey Corps was small enough to begin with, and now there was barely a handful of them left now. They had been turned against, their bases and barracks burned to the ground. There was nowhere for them to regroup, with no strength to defend themselves. All they could do was run with their tails between their legs.

All the effort and time put towards the benefit of humanity, along with all the losses endured, and they hadn't been any closer to the secrets of the basement than they had been four years ago.

Eren was no longer leverage at this point. The public wanted him and his shifting abilities gone and forgotten about, never to be remembered. And those who wanted his powers for personal gain knew he could be replaced.

But Erwin Smith wasn't the commander of the Survey Corps just for his good looks and charming personality. Crucial events took place that crucial night, due to the bravery of one man and the brokenness of another.

Should someone murder enough men and commit so many sins, they would lose their sense of shame. This was evident in the brutal beating given to the disabled ex-commander, slightly before his informal tribunal with the King. They tied his lone arm behind his back and forced him to kneel. The man looked on with a swollen, bleeding brow obscuring his vision, his heart pulsing calmly with the knowing oncoming of death.

This is what all his actions had come down to. He'd ordered countless men to die to see the man before him sit smugly and send him to his own demise. An eye for an eye, one he undoubtedly knew he deserved. 

And Erwin also knew this king would get his own one day. And after a careful second of thought, he supposed it was more wanting to believe in that sentiment, rather than anything else.

Erwin was then asked if he had any last words.

Oddly, possibly unsettling to the nobles who'd been hoping to see him quiver, a smile formed on chapped lips. Of course, they couldn't understand. This was it. Finally, he was free of these burdens, and he could get the justice he sought to endure. 

Even facing death in the eye, even with the guaranteed annihilation of mankind and his complete and utter failure dangling in his face, Erwin Smith proved to be outstandingly strange until the end. He was not afraid. 

His life didn't flash before his eyes, his heart didn't race. If anything, he was relaxed, and eerily calm. He'd never felt so relieved in his life; the knowledge of his fate was like wiping a slate clean. 

He was free.

But then he realized how caught up in selfishness he was, for there were others who were not. And regretably, if he was to die, then his job had to be passed onto someone else. 

Being unable to carry this burden for his comrades until the end was perhaps his single regret.

And like a bead of sweat that dripped from his forehead, splattering in the smallest of circles on his bloodied trousers, an idea started to form. He inhaled slowly, snapping his head up, gaze staring directly into another with equally terrifying, stone-cold eyes, as lifeless as the spirits that haunted him.

#

Somewhere much farther away, a group of five were treading on horseback, racing to a place of uncertain security. The captain leading the group sought after the cabin, fighting off his uncharacteristic anxiety with the hope that it was still abandoned. 

One of them, Historia, was hysterical, and the rest of them were not far from the state. The journey to and beyond and back from the wall awoke some especially painful memories of a very old, very special friend, and the tears were endless. 

Eren was the last to enter the cabin, having stood outside alone for what seemed like hours but was, in reality, a few minutes. He had stared at the outline of the building, hands in fists at his sides. The last time he had seen this cabin was four years ago, when he was just fifteen. There had been a small, meager amount of hope in their hearts then, but it was mountainous in comparison to now. 

The door his eyes were boring into opened with a small creak, Mikasa's hand reaching through the crack and pushing the door open. She poked her head out, and Eren's stomach churned when their eyes met.

Even strong, determined Mikasa looked pale, worried, and otherwise dead in the face. Her large, almond-shaped eyes held a dull, sickening gloom that she had worn twice before but never in front of him. 

“Eren,” she said, her voice quiet and lonely. He didn't respond. He only looked at her. His body reacted to her call, and he strode forward, fists still clenched, walking away from the night shadows that continued to haunt him, where the cries of his dying comrades from hours before could be heard.

Eren paused in front of her, bowing his head to meet her gaze. He had grown some since the last time he stood here, and it took him until now to realize that Mikasa was no longer the taller one-even if it had only been barely. He reached above her head to pull the door open enough for the two of them to step in, his ears catching the sobbing from inside.

Historia—who was still a shrimp—was sobbing in the not-so-scrawny arms of Armin, whose usually bright blue eyes met his equally dull mossy green. Armin had grown some, and was finally taller than Mikasa, and though he'd been wearing his hair in the style for a long time Eren had yet to notice the pony-tail of longer blond hair.

It seemed a lot had changed and he had never bothered to notice. Where was the time going? Why did it even bother ticking by, still, if there wasn't going to be a future to remember them?

Levi wasn't in the room, but that was all Eren could care to observe. The four of them stood alone, Historia's cries the only noise in the otherwise-silent room.

Eren's attention was drawn to a tugging on his sleeve rolled up to the crook in his elbow. He didn't have to look to know it was Mikasa's, as slid her hand beneath his cloak and clung to his arm. He could feel her broken gaze on his face like glass and could practically hear the silent tears dripping down her cheeks, just like his.

He glanced around the room, eyes adjusting to the dimly-lit area, avoiding the eyes that he knew were dead and dark. Instead he focused his gaze on a single lantern placed on a table to light the cabin, and offered his arms to take in her trembling figure, though his own trembles surely didn't offer much comfort. He met Armin's teary look when she, herself, started to cry.

Her sobs were small and quiet, muffled by his shirt gripped within her shaking fingers--unlike Historia's wails, which were loud and cracked and filling the insatiable void growing through the night.

#

He probably stood in that open doorway for an hour, listening to Historia's weeps slowly fade as she cried herself to sleep in Armin's arms, who took her away to one of the bedrooms to lay her down with heavy bags under his eyes. He didn't return, and was probably crying silently to himself. Eren didn't blame him in the slightest.

The breeze coming in through the open door eventually blew the lantern out, casting the two of them in total darkness. Their shadows could be seen in the floorboards thanks to the silver crescent shining in the ink above them.

It hit him like a tidal wave; the laughter of his old squad mates rang in his ear, and suddenly Eren was inside the doorway sweeping. A cloth was wrapped around his head, the sounds of their jokes casually breezing in through the open door on a sunny day, crates of potatoes, bread, and fresh vegetables in their hands. Life had seemed so bleak then, and it was even bleaker now. Almost as if it didn't exist.

He was paralyzed. He was trapped in that tunnel that he couldn't escape, even in his dreams. The faces were beginning to appear in midair before him, starting with Marco’s and ending with Jean's. He could feel the droplets of Connie's blood on his skin. The joyful sounds of Sasha's laughter quickly rippled into her ear-piercing screams.

Eren couldn't stand in that room anymore. His feet were running, pounding down the porch steps and heading frantically towards the stables. He needed to get away from this nightmare, but didn't know where he could go.

“Eren!” He didn't hear her voice anymore as he scrambled to find the saddles in the dark. His eyes were wet and he couldn't see anything. He tripped over the stacks of maneuver gear boxes, so he knew he was in one of the corners of the stables, but he couldn't remember for the life of him which one it was. It didn't matter. He was sure he was sporting many blisters with his hands clawing along the posts and rails, searching desperately for a way out.

He felt a hand grab his in the dark, but he snatched his limb back and shouted for them to get away. He needed to get out of here.

“Eren!” His ears weren't working, and neither were his eyes. He stumbled, felt himself fall to the ground. And then there was a weight pushing him into the dirt. His shirt was getting damper and the weight was shuddering and clinging to him, despite his best efforts to shake it off of him.

Eren then remembered his body, that he had hands and a way to fight off this living nightmare. He could very easily get rid of this pest that kept restraining at him and pushing him down. He brought a friigid hand to his mouth, preparing to bite down. Instead he met something soft in his grip, and something even softer on his lips. It was surprisingly warm. The whole thing was warm. Shuddering, but warm. 

It seemed fragile, like it was cracking. Maybe it wasn't a threat. He tried to hold it still with his hands, but it didn't stop rattling in his grip.

He tried to keep it still by rolling over, pressing the warmth into the ground beneath him, still feeling its temperate touch on his face. It was getting wetter, on his cheeks and in his mouth. He felt something cling around his neck, strangling him. He suddenly reached for the noose and found two ends of it, so he pinned each one down with tight fingers and more strength in his arms than he once thought he had.

The heat on his mouth disappeared, appearing seconds later on his neck. Then there was a ringing in his ears, and he let out a deep sigh. It was nice here, with this warm thing beneath him. It needed some taming, but it was comforting, like distant memories of a long-forgotten summer. He felt a heart beating in his chest, but it wasn't his. It was something real, something that wasn't him.

While it was soothing on his neck, Eren much preferred the warmness on his mouth. He found it again with his lips, this time feeling it, discovering the shape of it, and exploring its insides. 

Suddenly his lungs were burning, his chest felt like it would explode. Eren then remembered how to breathe.

#

By the time Eren had come around to a sensible state where he could open his eyes, it was too late. He felt his body moving in ways he'd never knew he was capable of, and the sounds escaping the girl beneath him were unlike any he ever imagined he would hear.

It was Mikasa, and from what he could tell, the lower half of her harness was detached and removed along with her trousers, and his own pants were unzipped. His mind was still clouded, and his eyes didn't quite open all the way. His body was moving on its own, as if there was a another entity, separate from him, telling it what to do.

His lips were on her neck, and his fingers were curling around something so tightly he started scraping his nails into the dirt. 

Deep down in his consciousness, Eren knew this was very probably wrong. But he couldn't bring himself to stop. He felt whole. This felt good. He was alive.

Never before had he been this alive.

He could feel Mikasa's legs wrapped around his waist, and identified her wrists in his choking grasp. Eren released them at the sight of her abnormally pale hands, finding her wet hair to tangle his fingers through. It was raining, the skin on her neck slick. It was cold all around them, but she was blazing.

“Mikasa,” he managed to whisper, finding some control over his throat. He lifted his head and hovered it over hers, blocking the rain from her face. Her eyes fluttered open after a moment, meeting his half-lidded gaze. The dull pain in her eyes was not gone, but it was masked by something else that Eren couldn't figure out. He knew his own eyes probably held the same mysterious tint.

The strange sounds coming from mouth suddenly ceased when his lips returned to hers, and they picked up again moments later, muffled through her colored cheeks, red from the cold and pink from other things.

Rain pelted roughly into his back. The cloak was drenched and his hair was dripping. He could feel Mikasa's body shuddering, and it took a moment to connect the dots. Her lower half was exposed to the bitter air and her skin seemed paler than it should've been. 

Her eyes were closed and he knew she wasn't sleeping. From what he could see she looked exhausted, both physically and mentally. He wondered how long he had been holding himself up since they had finished, why they hadn't bothered to push him up off the ground.

Eren sat up, finally, Mikasa gasping at the loss of warmth and the rain pouring in her face. She was pale and her lips were an abnormal blue hue.

Eren scrambled to find her sopping pants, but didn't bother pulling them up her legs. 

There was nobody inside the front room when he kicked the door open, which had swung near-closed with the wind, trailing in with water dripping and pooling at his footsteps. Minutes later both sets of clothes were piled in a wet heap in the corner, a fresh gown fished from her backpack clothed her cold body, and she was wrapped in a blanket, laid on the floor in front of the small fire Eren had managed to start. 

He had ventured into the back rooms to look for more blankets and pillows, and returned with an armful. He found Armin sitting on his knees in front of the fireplace, Mikasa's head in his lap, silently stroking her soaked hair.

He approached without a word, his footsteps on the creaking floor giving his presence away, but Armin didn't turn his head to greet him. Eren dropped everything on the floor besides a single blanket and draped it around Armin's shoulders, who took it wordlessly. 

Two more blankets were laid on top of Mikasa, and Eren held the pillow in his lap, sitting beside Armin. The three of them stared together into the dancing flames, nothing whatsoever running through their heads.

Minutes of solitude turned into an hour, and soon they were joined by a set of quiet, light footsteps, though they didn't have to turn around to see who it was. They could hear the sounds of chair legs scraping across the floor as it was dragged, and Historia took a seat behind Mikasa, a quilt from her bed enveloping her small frame.

Still, not a word was said. Not even when Levi emerged from the shadows and stood behind the small group, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, tear stains evident in the flickering light.

There was nothing to say, too many to mourn for, and no hope for the future. That was all they had left.


	2. Chapter 2

trepidation: (n) a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen  
syn: unease, anxiety, apprehension

Eren returned to the tunnel again that night, once the fire had died and all eyes were dry and couldn't fight to stay open anymore.

It was easier to cope with this time, because the pain didn't strike his veins like poison and the fear didn't reach to his core. But it was worse, because there was no Mikasa to help him escape, or any sense of reality to cling to that would keep him sane.

When he finally woke up with a gasp, Levi was standing over him, his boot pressing into Eren's shoulder, staring down at him with beady, black eyes.

“Get up, Jaeger,” he said coldly, removing his foot and allowing Eren to sit up, who ran his hands over his face and tried to slow his breathing. “We need to find food.”

Eren was up a moment later, eager to get his mind off his nightmare. He quickly scouted the room for his harness and boots. Mikasa was lying on the sofa, fast asleep with her back to the room. It was still dark, meaning the sun hadn't yet risen, but it had stopped raining.

“What time is it?” Eren asked, climbing to his feet sluggishly.

“Hell if I know. Just hurry up. We have to go while it's still dark out.” 

Moments later, the two were outside heading for the stables, fumbling around with little light to guide them. Levi led the way, finding the toppled-over mess of the gear Eren left behind hours before. He mumbled a slur under his breath but didn't ask any questions. Once they were both geared up, Levi began heading for the surrounding forest.

“Sir, aren't we taking the horses?”

“No. We're going on foot.” Eren didn't see any reason to argue.

The trip was short and less than bountiful, but they returned with enough game to last their five mouths for a few days while staying out of sight from the mountain dwellers. When they arrived back at the cabin, both exhausted and sleep-deprived, the sun was just cracking over the horizon of the treetops, the sky fading from orange to blue above them.

They left the game in the sink for Historia and Mikasa to clean and skin later, and Levi told Eren to get some rest. Before Eren more than gladly obliged, he searched through the dirty cupboards for a glass, finding a chipped mug. He reached for the faucet and pulled the lever, but nothing came out.

“Heichou, the plumbing doesn't--”

“I know. Last night while it was raining I set out buckets. I rinsed them out and scrubbed them first, of course.” Eren rolled his eyes. He knew Levi had been doing something related to cleaning. The captain directed Eren to the buckets and pointed out the one specifically for dirty water. Once he had a drink to satisfy his parched throat, he made his way to the bed rooms, collapsing on the nearest open bunk and shutting his eyes to the world.

The endless tunnel once again consumed him relentlessly for the next several hours.

#

Hanji knew the squad was safe—as safe as could be, rather—upon arrival at the cabin. The old one-story building stood inconspicously with foggy dawn blending it into the trees, birds chirping in array as if nothing was wrong with the world.

Their heart was racing as the horse galloped at full speed, closing the distance to the cabin with anxious ease. They came to an abrupt halt as close to the stable as the horse would allow, of course scaring the poor thing half to death. Hanji pat it absentmindedly, teeth grinding in thought as they dismounted, arms stretched wide and lungs filling to capacity to keep fiery nerves at bay.

Too much effort was wasted in keeping still; Hanji couldn't stop shaking. But this was a crucial moment to keep control and it was a struggle they'd endured like no other.

Levi, with a small pistol in hand, was outside almost immediately. For a short, stubby man, he was quick with those short, stubby legs. Hanji stifled laughter and approached the lance corporal familiarly.

“You were going to shoot me?” they asked, deadpan and quivering. Serious and grave. Somewhere in between. Unrecognizable.

“You were asking for it, charging in like that,” Levi grumbled, his voice gruff and exhausted. His eyes took in Hanji's full figure, studying their downcast eyes. He knew it before he even asked, so he didn't bother.

“We lost Erwin,” Hanji said. Their fists clenched at their sides as they spat the words out, as terrible as they tasted. Their legs began losing feeling, and collapsed on their knees. Levi shuddered and followed suit, kneeling to a single knee and crushing his empty fist into the dirt.

He could feel the eyes of his team on his back, practically reading the questions in their minds. Although, like him, they probably already knew the truth. But none of them wanted to be the first to accept it; he was the captain, after all.

It was a long and drawn minute before Levi found the words, a fresh breath quick and brisk and tasting of morning dew.

“How sure are you of that?” Damned he be, still searching for hope.

“Not one hundred percent,” Hanji answered immediately. “I didn't witness it myself, but Commander Pixis was present for the proceeding. He spoke with me shortly after.”

This wasn't a conversation to be had outdoors. “Get up, we'll talk inside.”

#

“So,” Eren said, avoiding Hanji's gaze. “Does that mean... Erwin-danchou is...”

He needn't finish his question, and the grave silence following gave him his answer. 

“But did you see it happen?” Armin asked.

“No. But Commander Pixis did. And before you start talking about conspiracy theories, you know as well as I do that we have to act under the assumption that he's dead.”

Eren's fists clenched. It was never-ending. They just kept losing.

Mikasa's parents, his own parents, Armin's parents and grandfather? All of his friends from the Cadet Corps? All of his superiors except for those that sat with him now?

What had they done to deserve any of this? 

What had transpired for a world so cruel come to exist?

“Eren, there's something else I have to tell you,” Hanji said carefully, thumbs twiddling anxiously. “It's something for everyone to hear, of course, but most importantly you.”

“Okay,” Eren's attention was refocused, and he sat back in his chair. He unclenched his fists and rested them on his thighs, attempting to relax. The air around them buzzed with a tense chill that wasn't there seconds before.

“It's about his last words. Erwin's. Pixis described them to me as empty threats.”

“Empty threats?” Armin asked.

“How empty?” Levi asked. Always one step ahead, always thinking.

“I'm glad you asked. I'm sure Erwin knew we would find out about this eventually, what he was saying, I mean. Apparently, he was going on about there being other Titan shifters that exist in secret, outside of the walls. Weapons of ours that are free of the monarchy's control. Obviously, we know that our enemies are Titan shifters, but these ones are different.

“He referred to them as your descendants, Eren, specifically yours. He even compared you to your father, but he used the word descendant, as opposed to child. Weird, I know.Perhaps he was talking metaphorically, maybe literally, probably a little bit of both, actually. Oh, who knows what goes through that man's mind?” 

All eyes in the room flashed to the young man of subject, whose face held a slightly pinker tone than usual. His descendants, like how he is a descendant of his father. His father's child. That was an implication he wasn't entire comfortable with. 

“So the king believes Eren has little Titan shifter babies and that they're running around outside the walls?”

Way to just fucking say it like that, Armin, he thought. Hanji cut him off before he could berate his friend. 

“Not exactly Eren's children, per se, hence why Erwin didn't use that term. But more or less, I believe that's what Erwin wants us to accomplish. I think it's supposed to make them fear us, make them think we have something up our sleeves. Of course they have to think it's a bluff, but a claim like that is something they cannot just ignore. Especially if it happens to be true.”

“Excuse me?” Eren scoffed, hardly believing what was being said. “This is just ridiculous. I can't just... there are just too many things wrong this.”

“In all honesty, that doesn't really sound like Erwin-danchou at all,” Armin said. “I understand that people act desperately and say radical things when they're about to die, but for someone like the commander to come up with a lie as crazy as that... I mean come on. It's just silly.”

“Even if it is, I trust Erwin and his judgment more than my own,” Levi said.

“He never did anything without a good reason and he spent most of his time in careful thought, always analyzing,” Hanji agreed. “It was almost artful, I might add.”

“All of that might be true, but think about it!” Armin pressed on. “We know absolutely nothing about Titan shifters other than what we learned from Eren, and that's next to nothing, at best. We don't even know how he became a Titan shifter, so how are we going to make these children into shifters if we don't even know how it works?”

“But the secret to that is in your basement in Shiganshina, right?” Hanji countered, directing their eyes at Eren. The turn of direction caught him by surprise; he jumped, hand reaching instinctively for the key that hung around his neck, warm and hard against the skin under his shirt.

They had no clue what was in the basement. They had been trying for years to get there, to no avail each and every time. It seemed impossible now.

“Supposed to be,” he said bitterly. Mikasa and Armin glanced at him from the corners of their eyes.

“Then that's what we're going to do. We have no other options at this point.”

“Still, this is stupid!” he argued.

“Do you have any other ideas?” Levi asked, fists slamming on the tabletop. The surface was worn and grainy and easily imprinted by the impact. “We can't just sit here on our asses and wait to be killed. We also can't just keep running around forever and getting nowhere. We have to move forward somehow, and Erwin gave us a place to start. I don't think it's logical any more than you do, but it's all we've got to go on.”

Hanji rephrased.

“It might seem insane, Eren. But that's how all of Erwin's plans were. That's how the Survey Corps is. We all have to be a little crazy to sign up for this shitty organization, and even crazier to dedicate our hearts, as Erwin always put it.”

“There isn't a single person in the Survey Corps crazier than you, you know,” Levi muttered.

“Even if the odds seem like they're against us, this is what we should do. Maybe, in the end, we'll accomplish nothing, but it's better than trying nothing and not even knowing what could've happened. Please believe in Erwin's final plan, Eren.”

Eren was quiet. Mikasa and Historia had nothing to say. Armin's thoughts brewed. Hanji waited patiently for Eren to speak up. Levi glared at him from across the table with narrowed, focused eyes.

“So what, exactly, are you asking of me?” he asked carefully, after a long moment of silent clarity and an exhausted sigh. “Just so we're clear.”

Hanji's eyes lit up in a way that Eren hadn't seen in a very long time. A distant memory comes to light, long forgotten from when their days weren't numbered.

“We're asking you to fill that role that Erwin opened for us. We need another Titan shifter. More than one, if necessary.”

“Nobody else can do this?”

“We don't know much about how shifting works, but we know that it works with your blood. And somehow your father is connected into all of this, so there is a chance that heredity could have something to do with it.”

“Okay, but I didn't mean that,” he replied. “I mean none of you could also become shifters?”

“I suppose that's possible,” Hanji said. “That is, if we get to Shiganshina alive and can test that theory.”

“No,” Armin interjected, in unison with Levi. The lance corporal gave the floor to his subordinate, who nodded in gratitude. “We are limited in numbers as it is and whoever turns into a Titan would go berserk until they ate a Titan shifter. That's how it was with Ymir and we know that's the reason Eren was kidnapped way back when. And even then, Historia isn't an option because we can't afford to lose her. Levi-heichou and Mikasa are our best fighters and we would need them in case whoever was turned went rogue and Eren couldn't control them. And as for you and I, Hanji-san... well...”

“You and Hanji are tools we can't afford to lose, either,” Levi interrupted. “So it can't be one of us.”

“What, so I have a kid and make them become a Titan without their say in the matter? Absolutely not.”

“Eren, look at me,” Levi demanded, standing to his feet and shoving the chair back with a scrape. His fingers gripped the edges of the table like he was about to flip it over. “Our squad has been wiped out, our commander is dead, and the Survey Corps is history. We are the only six people left in the world fighting for something that nobody else seems to give a damn about. Now look me in the eye and tell me that after all you've been through in your shitty life, you're going to back away from the last opportunity you have to do something, and you're going to let everybody down. Tell me that you're going back on all the promises you made to everyone, all those people who died for you, so you could do anything in your power to save the human race. Tell me you're selfish enough to let all those people, who cared about you and trusted you, die in vain! Look me in the eye and tell me all of that, Eren! If the sake of humanity relies on the sacrifice of a handful of children—and that's only potential sacrifice, mind you—then so be it!”

“But that's wrong! I won't stand for it!”

“What's more important to you? A few kids or the entire human race?!”

“It's not fair to them!”

“It's not fair to us!”

“You're ignoring the fact that it's still wrong on so many levels!”

“I know it's wrong, Eren! Yes, it's inhumane! It's immoral and it's a terrible thing to do! Turning an innocent brat into a Titan without them even understanding what is going on, only a desperate piece of shit would do that, to a child no less! And yes, that's exactly what we're asking you to do! Because if you don't, humanity is going to go extinct whether it's from the Titans or goddamn human nature! Do what you can to save it while you still can!”

“Then as my superior, order me to do it!”

“We're beyond that point, Eren. This is something you have to choose for yourself to do.”

He couldn't meet anybody's eyes. He glared at his fists balled in his lap

“You're not a selfish person, Eren. I know it's going to be awkward, but we'll all suffer through it together.”

“But this is just a stupid ruse! Seriously! Are you even listening to yourselves?!”

“Eren, we are well aware that this is a stupid plan. And you'd have to be stupid to go along with it. But it's all we've got and we're asking you to be stupid enough to believe in Erwin's plan. For Erwin. For your mother, and for all your friends who didn't make it.”

With a sharp turn of his head, Eren frustratedly met Mikasa's eyes. Even though the detail wasn't brought to light, there was only one person who could be the bearer of the child. It went without saying. 

They spoke silently through shared glances, confusion and e,bar

He didn't speak for a solid minute, thoughts brewing angrily in his head. When he finally did say something, he spat it out under his breath and stood up so fast that the chair clattered to the floor and he was out of the room before anybody could stop him.

“Fine, but I'm not the one you should be asking permission from.”

#

He spent the rest of the day hiding in the stables. Horses were better company than crazy, stressed soldiers with a great weight on their shoulders. 

It took him a minute to realize that he was one of those, too. Even if the Survey Corps was disbanded, he was still a soldier.

A soldier being ordered to procreate for the sake of humanity. He couldn't ignore how stupid this order was. Any straight guy his age in any sort of normal universe that could possibly exist would love to be ordered to have sex with someone as attractive and loyal and amazing as Mikasa. They'd probably even backstab their best friend for the opportunity. But Eren wasn't that kind of person.

On top of that, it was embarassing. Something that should be very private to him was out in the open to the only friends he had left. Not to mention that it was beyond awkward. It was Mikasa. His best friend. Someone who deserved more than this cruel life they lived and shouldn't have had to get so mixed up in it.

Even if they had already slept together, even if it was an accident, the next time wouldn't be. It would be forced, awkward, and unfair. Something that Levi and Hanji couldn't seem to wrap their heads around. And if they did realize it, then they didn't care. But Eren did.

As petty as it was, Mikasa deserved someone to fall in love with her and be filled with such a passion that they wanted to have a child with her. Not through military order. And it pissed him off to no end that they hadn't even bothered to ask Mikasa if she was willing to go through with it first, before asking him. She was the one who had to suffer, not him. This was all so fucked up.

They couldn't even pull the 'there-are-more-options-than-Mikasa” card, because it's not like they could kidnap a random girl off the streets and impregnate her. Historia was a lesbian and Hanji was almost twice his age. Obviously no other options. 

But after thinking about it, maybe they just assumed Mikasa would be the one to carry the child. Because of the fact that they were best friends. And because she was a dedicated soldier, and because she was so loyal to him. It would almost be an insult to her to have someone else do it.

Eren stopped his thoughts there before he admitted more to himself than he was willing. He'd been pacing anxiously, deep in thought, horses watching him as he strode up and down the stable again and again. He'd purposefully avoided their eyes, prefering not to remember the designated riders that no longer lived.

He paused in the doorway, hands shoved down in his pockets as far as they could go. The sun was setting behind trees, night on its way as the sky warmed into a burnt amber, crickets filling the emptiness. Just once he wanted to see the sun touch a horizon of land, as it belonged.

Out here, Eren realized he wasn't alone. For how long she had been there he had no idea and had no intention of asking, but Mikasa sat on a bale of hay just outside the door. Like she was waiting for him to cool off. Like she always did.

“Mikasa,” he muttered in greeting. He still wasn't calm and she was one of the last people he wanted to see.

“Hey,” she said quietly, not turning her head to look at him. Not pestering him, not scolding him, not asking anything of him. Just waiting with undying patience. He sighed, and took a seat beside her. She scooted over to make room.

Crickets grew louder as they sat in silence, watching the sun disappear behind the trees together. Mikasa yawned and leaned on him, lazily settling her head on his shoulder. Figures she would be tired this early in the day, given the night prior and everything that followed.

The memory made him blush, and he was grateful she couldn't see it.

Eventually she spoke, when the air was a little darker and he couldn't ignore how much she was shivering.

“They asked me after you went outside,” she said. “Honestly we all thought it went without saying, but thank you for being considerate anyway.”

Eren huffed in reply. Of course she would bring this up. After he finally calmed down. He still didn't want to talk about it but he knew it had to happen so he let her talk.

“I know it's embarassing,” she continued, only intensifying his blush. “I know it seems unfair. And it is—I'm not saying that it isn't. But it's for the good of—”

“Please spare me that 'it's-for-the-greater-good-of-humanity bullshit because I already know that,” he argued. “That's why I said I'd do it in the first place. I don't need this pep talk.”

“If you don't need it then why are you so upset?”

“Because I'm allowed to be upset? Because any normal person being denied their freedom to do what they want should be pissed off? Mikasa, this isn't just about me. It's also about you. Why aren't you pissed off?”

“Because I don't see what's so bad about it.”

“What's not bad about being forced to... you know...”

“What? Have sex?” she finished, pulling her head off his shoulder to glare at him.

“Don't. You're going to make this more awkward than it already is.”

“But that's what it is. We had sex last night and in order to have a child we have to have sex again.”

“Stop saying that Mikasa.”

“You're being immature, Eren. You're the greatest hope for all of humanity, you're twenty years old, and you can't even handle hearing the word 'sex'.”

“It's not that,” he countered, face growing red. This conversation had definitely taken a turn he didn't expect and he didn't want to continue it. “It's just the fact that... that it's with you of all people.”

The words came out wrong and he could see the backlash unfold as he watched her face. Shit. Not what he meant. Fuck.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, like... well we've known each other for a long time.”

“So what?”

“I just don't want to ruin our relationship.”

“Eren, if our relationship was ruined because of sex, then you wouldn't have been able to look me in the eye this morning. And you did that just fine.”

“Yes, but this is different! We're being forced to—”

“We're not being forced to do anything. What happened between us happened because it's what we wanted at the time. I'm positive it would have happened again.”

“But I was forcing myself onto you!”

“You really think I couldn't have stopped you if I wanted to?”

“I was in a rampage. I was holding you down and you couldn't move.”

“You may be stronger than me but that doesn't mean I couldn't have escaped from you. Plus, I know your weak spots. Like right here.” She touched his jaw teasingly, and he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her hand away and shoving it into his lap.

“Do you want me to prove it?” she asked suddenly, grabbing him by the chin and forcing them to make eye contact. “Go on, try to hold me down and force yourself onto me.”

His eyes swelled with a fear and he swallowed dryly, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I'm not going to do that,” he said carefully.

“You feel guilty when you shouldn't. And to you, actions speak louder than words.”

“That might be true but it's not the only thing that's bothering me,” Eren argued. “All of this is fucking stupid. And it's pointless.”

“We've done more stupid things,” she said softly. “And we still came out okay. Alive. Even if it is pointless, I think we should do it anyway.”

Her words triggered another ghost of a memory, of long ago when theirs days didn't feel so numbered. A bout of oddly-aqquired inspiration was all he could recall, and yet it was comforting enough to ease some unsettling tension inside.

She shivered against him again, and he was reminded of the low temperature. Taking a look at her short sleeves, he suggested she go inside. Predictably, she refused.

“Are you going to go inside?” she asked just seconds later, as if it would sway her decision. Eren sighed heavily, though it didn't help the heavy weight in his chest. He wasn't ready to face Levi or Hanji again.

“Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“You heard how annoying they were.”

“They're just thinking about the future.”

“Like hell there's a future now.”

“Talking like that isn't like you.”

“Whatever.” Having enough conversation for the night, Eren stood up, turned on his heel, and stalked into the stable, hands shoved deep in his pockets once more. He wasn't in the mood to be scolded. Too many thoughts ran through his head, too many things to ponder and accept. It seemed as if he would never get another moment of peace for the rest of his life.

As expected, Mikasa followed him inside. Typical. He didn't face her, and instead of telling her to get lost he waited for her to continue where she left off. And he waited. Her scolds never came.

Instead, she comforted him with a hug that he wasn't expecting. Eren was frozen, with the light pressure of her forehead on his neck and her arms gripping him like a lifeline.

She might have been crying but he couldn't tell. He felt a mix of guilt and annoynace at the notion, questioning why she always followed him around loyally despite his brash and standoffish tendencies. He sighed again, closing his eyes. Why did he have to be such an asshole?

He was about to mutter an apology of sorts but she spoke first, cutting him off.

“I'm here for you, you know,” she said quietly. No hint of crying in her voice, so he was relieved, and a little red in the face for assuming the worst. “You don't have to put up barriers around me.”

Her words were true, he knew very well, and they resonated with him comfortingly. But she spoke as if it was something easy to do, especially for someone like him, who had to wear a brave face at all times to keep himself sane. If he let go and gave into his fears again... He didn't want to think about it.

Especially if something like last night would happen again, where he lost control of himself and acted on instincts alone, he might hurt someone. Hurt Mikasa. Even if she claimed she could fend him off, there was no telling what he would do in that state of mind. Repeating last night wasn't the only thing he was worried about.

He was a Titan shifter. What if he tried to kill her again, completely on accident? Sure, he'd gained much more control over his Titan, but it wasn't easy. There was so much on his mind these days, so much blood on his hands that he couldn't wash away, so many things he couldn't forget that could distract him easily. Too easily.

Let down his barriers around her. And then what? Take out his stress on her? Fuck that. He would definitely hurt her if he did that. She didn't know what she was asking of him.

As always, she could sense his emotions like a stray. Somehow, she could read him like he was an open book. He never understood it and still didn't.

Mikasa pulled away, twisting him in place by the shoulders. Then she cupped his jaw and pulled his face down to be level with hers. Annoyed but unfighting, he watched her careful eyes.

“You don't trust yourself,” she said as-a-matter-of-factly, gently, almost convincingly. “But I do. I always have.”

She still didn't get it. Maybe he would just have to prove it to her, like she wanted.

“Fine,” he said, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders and pushing her back. “We're gonna spar. The bandit session like back in the Cadet Corps.”

“We don't have a knife.”

“Do we need one?”

“It's not much of a training exercise without it, is it?”

“Fine,” he said again, huffing angrily. He accomodated to her wishes with a blade from their gear, breaking it down to a smaller size, just like the exercise. He tossed it at her to inspect, and she tossed it back cleanly, satisfied with the length. Then he fell into stance.

“I'll be the bandit first,” he said, stomach boiling. It had been a long time since he practiced physical combat. And he was pretty sure he'd never practiced with Mikasa. 

“Do your worst,” she challenged bravely, taking a step back to brace herself. Her comment made him cocky, and he swallowed his apprehensions—choked them down, in fact—and launched at her, positioning the blunt end of the weapon accordingly with his wrist.

The next thing he knew he was on his back and his arms were forming bruises that would heal before they settled on his skin. Her boot pressed firmly on his sternum, blade in her hand and pinching the skin on his wrist, which she held in one hand. His other wrist was trapped beneath her second foot, but she left his legs free.

She didn't look at him smugly, but with patience. Like she was waiting. Waiting for him to fight back? Fine. Wish granted.

He took advantage of the opening she left him and kicked himself backwards, grounding his shirt into the soil. Free of her trap, he sprung up, dodged her kick and grabbed her leg. She retaliated and leapt into the air, moving her body with expert grace and landing a kick into his shoulder that very well could have been his face. 

He fell back again, still holding onto her leg and taking her with him. She braced herself for the fall, tossing the blade behind her, forgotten. Eren stood quickly while Mikasa lay sprawled, holding her leg and reaching for the other to pin them down. She was too quick; a quick blunt force to his gut was enough to send him back a step. He recovered impressively quickly, yet not quick enough for Mikasa. 

She had hurdled herself into him, curled into a fast ball, and stood with him hunched over her shoulders. She let go with a toss, and he fell behind her, landing on his back with a thud. She was quick to roll him over with a kick and pin an arm between his shoulder blades, kneeling on his back.

Eren hated the taste of defeat. He ground his teeth together with growing frustration. His blood was bubbling and the words she spoke right then went in one ear and out the other.

This feeling of being trapped beneath her weight triggered another memory, one he often tried to forget about it. A time where the two of them were looking death in the eye and Mikasa leapt on top of him in a sacrifice, protecting him with her life.

He'd been absolutely furious with her then, from that stupid moment of self-sacrifice. But he could never tell her that. She'd been a mess, thinking those were their last moments together. In truth she was very much afraid as he was, not of herself or of him but of living at all. He could feel it through her body. It was the same as his, and yet so different.

Something began to consume him. She wasn't holding back with him, so why should he with her?

She must have mistaken his stillness for a calm, because she stood up and stepped back, brushing dark tresses behind her ear. Like she was just getting started. Well so was he.

Eren was off the ground and lunging at her in a flash, throwing out his leg to kick at hers. She jumped just in time, coming at him with a kick of her own to his center of balance. He fell to his back and rolled swiftly onto his feet, holding up fists and preparing for her onslaught.

Mikasa kept her distance for a moment and both of them caught their breaths. Eren's vision was starting to blacken in the edges, and watching her heaving figure reminded him of when he fought Annie's titan in the forest. The way they were both after something, trying to tire him out in this fight, trying to figure him out, it was the same. And he wasn't going to lose again.

A voice in the back of his mind was trying to say something but he ignored it. It was stupid. It didn't understand.

He lunged first, once again. Mikasa was prepared, catching his wrists and allowing him to get close, lifting her knee at just the right moment. It collided with his ribs and she could hear a crack, but it didn't faze him in the slightest. He just kept on hammering with his other fist, which she caught with her hand.

It was a mistake to try and fight his brute strength with her own. He overpowered her easily and they were heading backwards very fast, until he slammed her into a post between the gates. He growled at her, eyes furious and raging.

She kicked him back and landed a fist right into his jaw, following up with a second to his stomach and a third to his chin. She continued on, controlling her breathing flawlessly, and was able to get him on his back once more.

Mikasa sat kneeled on his chest, knee pressing into the center, her hands holding down his wrist on opposite sides of his head. The look in his eyes was deranged, full of fury. This is what she had wanted, for him to lose control. It was the only way for him to truly trust himself, and he needed to.

But she knew it had gone too far when he moved his hand to his mouth.

“Eren,” she breathed, speaking to an empty consciousness, pushing down on his hands with all her strength. It wasn't enough, so she moved her hand to cover his before his teeth could sink around it. He bit down, cutting through layers of her skin with ease. She tried hard to surpress her scream as blood ran down over his mouth, blood that wasn't his.

The next thing she knew she was on her back, with his hands around her neck. Her vision was already starting to crease with black folds, her lungs gasping for air that wouldn't come to them. 

Mikasa clawed at her throat desperately but his hands wouldn't budge. He was much stronger than she gave him credit for. But she waited with patience, despite her hands grabbing at his fruitlessly, finding it in her to trust in him wholeheartedly.

Their eyes didn't stray from each other once. His were a liquid, steel jade spinning with a fire she had stoked. Hers were careful, fading, knowing, and cloudy. She watched until she could no longer focus on anything, until his puffy face was a fleeting figure in the dark.

Eventually, time unbeknownst to either of them, Mikasa's eyes fluttered open. Eren stared down at her, through her, with a soft gaze that was unrecognizable. He blinked once, then a second time, and then a silent third.

His fingers rested on her skin, but his hands were gravely still. She was gasping and heaving for breath, but he wasn't breathing at all. He was a statue, absolutely unmoving. He felt sick, like he'd swallowed acid and was going to throw up his insides. His head throbbed painfully.

Eren realized he was still straddling her, holding her down. He flew himself off in the blink of an eye, crashing his back into a post with a force that might have given him a concussion. His fingers grasped at his hair, pulling angrily at the roots. This was bad. Everything was spinning and screaming at him and he could only ask himself what had he done what had he done what had he done what had he done what had he done what had he done what had he—

“—Wait,” Mikasa muttered, coughing uncontrollably as she struggled to breathe, sitting up to meet his grief-striken eyes. “Calm down. It's okay.”

His thoughts came to a standstill. He was afraid to move. It was quiet, absolutely quiet. He couldn't look at her but he also couldn't look away.

“Breathe,” she instructed, holding her chest as if it would surpress her coughing. Without skipping a beat he inhaled undeservingly, filling his lungs to capacity and loathing the taste of air. 

She found strength in her shaky legs to approach him, falling to her knees and filling his gaze with her trusting eyes that he just couldn't comprehend. Why would she want to be around him? He shakily reached for her neck, hovering over the bruises that were already starting to appear. He stared back at her with his mouth hanging open, eyes traveling to her calm, gentle eyes and the marks under his fingertips.

He had really tried to kill her. He had been choking her, watching the light leave her eyes as he forced it out of her.

“It's not your fault,” she said again and again and again. Repeating this mantra like their lives depended on it. His sanity certainly did.

“I tried to kill you,” he whispered to utter silence, carving wounds into every nerve ending. Just like that, it hit him. Like a shit ton of bricks falling on him out of the sky, like he'd taken a Titan's fist through the gut, like a tidal wave crushing him with the destructive weight of the ocean. 

His fingers, trembling beyond control, ghosted over the bruises that didn't belong on her porcelain skin, delicate and colored like roses, as if somehow his gentleness could erase the damage. Like he was touching a corpse; a corpse he created. Like she was made of glass.

“No,” she snapped, despite the stress her voice was still condfident and strong, even with the raspy tone it had taken on. “You stopped yourself before that could happen. You came to your senses like I knew you would.”

“Mikasa,” a small voice cracked, endless emotions encompassed within her name. His eyes were full to the brim, spilling over, even, searching for stability in hers with a great, desperate need. She adjusted herself, sitting more comfortably in front of him, and met his eyes with comforting promises. Both hands, one broken and dripping with a liquid as warm as her smile, cupped his jaw securely, holding him in place and in one piece.

“You don't trust yourself,” she said calmly, speaking her words clearly and slow, keeping his attention on her. Their foreheads rested together, sweat mixing in beads and hot breaths on the others' lips. “But I trust you.”

Her words were a trigger and like a switch had flipped, Eren was crying. She held him tightly, just as he'd done for her. He trembled violently, as if to shake off the tension that continued to gnaw at him.

Eren had always been a strong person by conventional defintion, known as the one person in the group that never stopped trying and never gave up. He was determined, motivated, and inspirational, and had a lot of weight to carry because of it. And he rarely showed just how heavy a burden like that could be. 

She always knew his stress weighed him down in his weakest moments, ones like these, when he couldn't depend on himself. And if he couldn't depend on himself, then how was the whole world going to depend on him? Why did it come down to him instead of someone else? What made him so special?

Mikasa couldn't imagine juggling all of those thoughts and retaining her sanity. His will was strong, and she admired him more and more everyday. But when she could feel his stress and pain physically affect his body, tighten his limbs and let his tears flow, and when she saw that he still kept his chin up and looked her in the eyes, she couldn't imagine anywhere else that could be a safer place for her to cry.

So she cried with him. Into the long hours of the night, where it was pitch black and quiet and cold except for his body heat and all she could see of him was his eyes. 

She had kissed him without thinking. And he accepted it with remorse, taking her broken hand in his and forcing himself to look at it.

Then he shut his eyes, shook his head, and removed his shirt. There was clean water in a nearby bucket; the two of them had shed enough tears to fill it. His gut burned with every swipe as he cleaned the gashes, the intensity bursting once he saw her scar. He'd felt so ashamed of himself before, yet that was nothing compared to now.

He opened his mouth to apologize but he couldn't form the words. And even if he could, nothing he would say could close the skin on her hand or heal the tendons he'd ripped through like burnt paper. 

“I don't know how you can bite yourself that deep without at least flinching,” Mikasa said lightly with darkness closing over them.

“I don't either,” he replied. He seemed disinterested in conversation, but she continued on despite that.

“Doesn't it hurt when you do?” As she spoke he tightened the fabric, wincing as he did so. Her arm stiffened and her breath caught in her throat, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut and he felt like he was going to throw up at any second because of it.

“Yeah. A lot.” But not as much as this.

“Do you feel pain as a Titan?” Another question he didn't need to distract him. He sighed with irritation briefly, but was quick to think that perhaps he wasn't the one she was trying to distract.

“Kinda. It's hard to explain.” He finished the dressing with a tight knot to hold it all together. He didn't bother elaborating. “How does it feel?” he asked, cradling her hand with both of his.

“It's very tight. Thank you.”

“I'm sorry,” he said suddenly, the words spilling out without hesitation.

“We've been over this, Eren. Don't be sorry. It was my fault and I'm okay. It will be okay.”

“But—”

“Eren, no. Don't be sorry. You were not at fault.” She glared at him intently, fighting his stare with her own stubborn certainty. It was late and they didn't have time to argue about things that wouldn't change.

“Fine,” he muttered, eyes backing down and no longer having the courage to face her.

“I see a blanket on top of that bale if you want to sleep out here,” she said. The temperature had dropped with the oncoming of nightfall yet she knew he wasn't going to go inside and face their superiors. She hardly wanted to, either.

“What about you?” he asked. 

“I'll stay out here with you,” she offered.

“You don't have to.”

“I know, but I want to.”

“Alright.” It wasn't like he could argue with her. She would just end up doing what she wanted, anyway. That, and he was honest with himself enough to admit that he wanted the company. So they slept together, side by side, keeping close to each other for warmth until the lines blurred together and the night dragged through long hours of sleepless breathing and creeping, trembling hands and butterfly kisses.

And when he finally woke, stretching thin, crusty, tired eyes open to a sight of more skin than he was prepared to see, reality slapped him in a way that had never been as harsh in his life.

The sunlight was awful and bright and screamed at his heavy eyes at he sat up. In an instant the weight of the air sagged onto his shoulders and dragged him down, his hands gripping his temples and his bare back smacking the hay painfully. Eerything he had been able to forget about from the night before crawled around in his brain like insects. 

He wiped his face with dirty hands as he sat up again. His muscles were aching and there were several bruises he forgot he had. Among the distasteful thoughts spiraling out of control, Eren wondered what time it was.

Reality became a little clearer with a stern voice filling the silence. 

“Get your ass back inside.” Vigor diluted with venom. He'd forgotten that almost everyone was still waiting on him. Standing in the doorway was an angry little man with his arms crossed, and appeared as if he'd gotten about as much sleep as Eren did.

At last, he understood why.

Levi turned on his heel and strode away from the stables, muttering something about sanitation and lack of sensibility. It took him a minute, then remebered to look for their clothes and hide his blush before waking Mikasa.

# 

Inside the cabin, it was silent when they entered. Nobody paid direct attention to them in particular, other than a wave in greeting. Probably to spare them the embarassment, and mostly thanks to Armin's considerate persuasion. Still, it was obvious that everybody knew what went unsaid. Eren didn't fluster or avoid looking his two seniors in the eyes, nor did they interrogate him. Mikasa was her usual quiet self.

Don't ask, don't tell. The elephant in the room eventually shrank with time.

Along that time, plans to relocate were made, and guidelines for living as criminals hiding from the law were enforced. Mikasa woke to most mornings with a bucket under her chin and Eren and Armin took turns with soothing back rubs and filling makeshift cups with water. They lived by candlelight until they relocated, into a place where the air wasn't filled with decay and irrepressable memories and he could finally breathe again.

One night among the many was especially reassuring.

His fingers ran absentmindedly along her gentle, crestening curve. His eyes fixed on the unwashed strands of her hair tickling his nose, Eren listened to the sounds of her breathing, to the gentle rhythm of viens in her neck, to the ever-increasing tempo of patter drilling into the roof above.

Unintentionally, the hem of her shirt was lifted by his hand's movement, and the pattern of her breaths altered as she stirred.

“Did I wake you?” he whispered inaudibly into her hair, hoping it wasn't the case. She'd been catching onto his insomniatic tendencies lately, and was a light sleeper as it was.

He was answered with a half-hearted, sleep-laced whimper, to which he smiled--while her hand instinctively moved to cover his, her fingers prying into the spaces between his. It was a simple gesture, and despite his arm already resting over her he could feel a blush warming his cheeks, newfound intimacy keeping him warm and far from the cold, cruel misery lurking beyond the window panes.

Mikasa drifted along with the rhythmic lull of weather not too long after. It was odd, but this time, he was able to follow. There were no deaths replaying in guilty cycles before his eyes when he finally closed them, and the angry scent of blood was gone and replaced by the growing-familiar smell of Mikasa's hair.

And it felt completely normal to be lying in bed with someone, someone to protect who lay safe in his arms. More than one someone. His sleep went undisturbed with one of those rare, pleasant dreams that passed him by on most nights.


	3. Chapter 3

trepidation: (n) a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen  
syn: unease, anxiety, apprehension

In the six months that had passed, Armin watched his two best friends change more than he'd ever witnessed in the ten years that he knew them.

Mikasa was always the one to keep the distance between herself and Eren a short one, yet lately it seemed to be the other way around. Oftentimes the lack of space between the two as they sat on the floor with a deck of cards was much more prominent than with that of the others, Eren subconsciously staying close to her. It became more noticeable as time progressed.

On top of that, Armin never failed to notice the discreet brushing of hands in the hallway or the way Eren always seemed to be checking on her no matter what they were doing, whether the lot of them sat out on the back porch and sparred in the privacy of the night, or stayed inside and listened to the rain fall, sipping or snacking on whatever treats Hanji managed to snag on their trips. Like he was the one who had something to protect this time around.

As intuitive and understanding as he was, Armin couldn't fathom the idea of parenthood from their perspective. His two friends were pushed into the ordeal of conceiving on a whim after an unintentional experience that confused the hell out of them. They had no time to sort out their feelings, after the failed expedition and losing the last of their friends and comrades in a bloodbath, no less.

Who would want to raise a child with no chance at even the slightest bit of a normal life in this world? Let alone with a destiny to ignite a false fear in the hearts of the monarchy?

This child was going to be born solely for a purpose to benefit humanity, not out of love between their parents. The Mikasa he knew a long time ago sought after a future of peace with Eren, to have a family and create a new home somewhere within the walls and live as normally as possible. It wasn't a selfish ideal, but he would have never pictured Mikasa offering up her life to raise a child for the sake of humanity and not her own happiness.

Eren was too driven in his goals to focus on something so limiting as being a parent. Even before the breach in Maria, Eren's focus was on joining the Survey Corps and taking the place of those who died in order to advance. He would have always lived a military lifestyle until the day he died, perhaps finding it in him to return Mikasa's romantic feelings along the way but not so much as procreating, if there was even enough time in their short lives to get around to that before they met their end.

The irony was painful. It took several trips to hell and back just to have a child that wasn't even desired.

Thoughts like these were evident on his friends' faces, which was perhaps the biggest change Armin picked up on. They rarely spoke, though that was a common trait among the six of them as of late. When they did speak it was late at night, when sleep was unattainable and they had nothing to do but memorize the grain patterns in the wooden boards above their heads.

On top of it all, they led otherwise boring lives as they kept hidden from the public. Armin, Hanji, and Mikasa were the only ones allowed to leave the house. Levi was recognizable with his short stature and undercut, along with his grand reputation and the fact that his photo had been spread publicly. Eren was Eren. Famous, way too well-known within the walls and wanted by the royal government and the Military Police for 'treason'. As for Historia, she was the daughter of the true royal family. If anything, she was leverage, and couldn't afford to be spotted and recognized.

It's not like she wanted to leave the house, anyway. Historia spent her days alone, usually tidying up something that was already clean, or sitting at the table and scribbling unknown notes to herself, or perhaps sitting at the window and watching the occasional passerby on the not-so-bustling street. Her nights she spent crying. She spoke the least out of them.

Eren snuck out with no resistance, so long as he wore a hood and behaved, speaking to no one and keeping completely to himself. He was usually chaperoned. On many days he would go for a stroll with Mikasa, who would nudge him painfully in the ribs when the occasional stranger would inquire about the pregnancy and congratulate them. Eren's first response was to glare and scoff about how ignorant they are. She always caught him before he opened his mouth.

When Armin wasn't at home, he worked with a local merchant who owned a few stalls in the nearby market. He had always physically been on the delicate side but he wasn't incapable of the demanding labor. It paid their rent and bought meager amounts of food.

Hanji would barter for goods and sell them at ridiculous prices, but stopped after a short while to keep from building a reputation. Since then, they traveled around to the closest villages and kept and eye and ear out for anything concerning the military and the patriarchy.

Levi was the one who dealt with isolation the hardest. When they first moved in, everyone kept busy with chores. There wasn't much to clean after awhile, so when he wasn't wiping a finger along surfaces and sweeping the cracks and corners of the old house, he would tend to their collection of weapons; check them for maintenance, clean them, keep them in pristine condition. He often left at night, disappearing to the neighboring fields to run around and spar with a ghost until all the adrenaline ran dry. It was all he could do to keep himself sane, since he could never sleep.

Their long days passed by silently, life bleak and the future bleaker. Sometimes Armin wondered why none of them resorted to suicide, Historia especially. She continued to live on in silence, swinging back and forth between hoping Ymir was still alive, and the crippling horror that she was dead, far gone, and forgotten.

As Armin walked back to the house on one particularly life-altering day, it hadn't exactly crossed his mind to enter a bookstore he passed by. In fact he would have thought nothing of the shop if Historia hadn't been on his mind in that exact moment and he hadn't bothered to read their 'HELP WANTED' sign in the window. He didn't very much like the idea of having her leave the protection of their house, given their predicament. It was, however, a way to earn a living, get her mind off Ymir, and give her the false sensation of having a reason to exist. If Levi and Eren were allowed to break their house arrest, why shouldn't she?

He shut out logic and reason for one second and pushed his way into the store.

When the bells swung overhead, announcing his entrance to the small, empty building, Armin glanced to the front counter where a bored-looking clerk sat on a stool, raising an eye from her book in hand to greet the customer.

"Good afternoon," she said, her voice stern, but worn. Armin returned her greeting with a warm smile, stepping towards the counter.

"I came in to ask about your sign," he explained, gesturing to the white poster on the window to his left.

"Oh? You don't seem like the type of young man to work in a store," she commented. Her eyes explored his dirt-stiffened trousers, dusty shoes, and calloused hands. Armin laughed, moving his hand to brush some of the grime off his shirt but deciding against it at the last second. Years ago he was exactly the type of young man to work in a store, with his childlike features, polite demeanor, and easily frightened nature. Things were somewhat simpler then.

"Oh no, not me," he explained with a chuckle. "It's my fiancee. She's looking for something that's not too hard on her physique."

"Why is that?"

"She's pregnant, ma'am."

"Alright then," the woman replied, a gentle smile crinkling with her eyes. "What's her name?"

"Her name is Krista," he said gently. "She's a quiet young woman but she works very diligently." As he spoke, the woman marked a spot in her book and closed it, setting it down on the counter top.

"Well, I'm not one to judge a book without reading it first," she said kindly. She winked at him, but Armin couldn't decide whether he actually saw it or just imagined it. "We're closed tomorrow for the weekend but if she would like to come in anytime on Monday morning, she is welcome. I'll be here."

"Thank you very much," Armin said gratefully, bowing to the woman and clutching at the straps of his satchel to keep it from sliding around on his torso. When he stood, the woman was smiling gently at him. In a quick burst of thought, he realized her voice did not match her smile in the slightest. He turned to make his leave.

"While you're here, we do have some books on sale on that shelf over there," the woman said, pointing. "We're bringing in a new shipment so a lot of the outdated books and the ones in poor condition need to go so we can make space. You're welcome to take a look."

"Oh, thank you, but I don't have much money to spare at the moment."

"Just take a look and see if there's anything you like." Armin nodded, hiding his frustration of being kept, stepping over to the shelf in question and browsing it without paying too much attention. It was only for show, anyway. And from what he could tell, there wasn't much, except for a few titles Mikasa might like.

As he was about to make his leave, there was one book that happened to catch his eye, a plain white spine with the title printed in thick, black letters.

With a slender finger, Armin slipped the book out of the shelf, weighing it in his hands as he read the title again, this time accompanied with a matching picture. He scanned the first few pages, checking for some information he was looking for, then closed the book and turned it around to view the price tag but found nothing.

"Are you interested in that one?" the woman asked, stepping out from behind the counter. She approached and stopped an arm's reach away, folding her hands together in front of her in delight. As Armin glanced down to meet her eyes, he noticed how small she was, both in height and frame.

"Uh, yes," Armin replied, eyes flashing back to the cover. "How much do you want for it?" As he asked, the bells from the door went off, and the clerk greeted them momentarily before glancing back up at Armin.

"Nothing. Take it."

"Oh! Are you sure?" he asked, eyes widening. He couldn't imagine taking advantage of someone of her stature. The longer he looked at her, she seemed older, more worn. Probably sick. He wondered why she was even working.

"Of course! You seem like you will put it to good use. Good luck," she said, smiling at him with a definite, unmistakable wink. Armin blushed at her implications, then fished into his bag.

"I-It's all I can afford, but please! I insist you take it," he stuttered, retrieving a tattered bill from inside and holding it out to her desperately.

"Oh no," she laughed, closing his dirty fingers around the note and pushing it back towards him. "You keep that."

"Are you sure?" In that instant, her composure changed. Like he pushed a button and she snapped.

"Look, you're starting to get on my nerves. Just take the book and I'll see your fiancee after the weekend."

"Okay, thank you very much!" Armin replied, stuffing his things into the bag and turned on his heel, waving back at the woman before exiting in a hurry.

#

It rained on his way back to the house. It was somewhat unsettling, though he couldn't find a logical reason as to why, and so shoved the thought to the back of his mind. It was only a light sprinkle, one that would end in a matter of minutes once the clouds dissipated, anyway.

The first thing he meant to do was find Historia when he returned, and alert her of the job opportunity, but once inside he found Levi first.

The door between the mudroom and the kitchen area was wide open, and he could see Levi sitting at the table with a newspaper flattened out in front of him. In his hands was a knife and a cloth; he cleaned the blade absentmindedly while he read.

Armin stumbled while kicking off his boots, arm-deep into the satchel to retreive the book. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted instantly.

"That's not where your shoes belong, Arlert," Levi grumbled, not even looking up.

"Levi-heichou," Armin said, ignoring the captain's grumpy tone of voice and doubling back to fix his boots upright and tuck them onto the rack. "I think I found something that will help us." He was out of breath, having run through the rain without a coat, but was also eager to get his thoughts out of his head and into someone else's.

"How vague," the short man said with a smirk. "In regards to what?"

And suddenly, being put on the spot, Armin forgot everything he'd wanted to say. So for a moment, he stuttered in silence and managed to choke out, "um, well I found a book."

"A book?"

"Yes."

"...So this book is going to magically make this situation less shitty?"

"You should never underestimate the power of a book, heichou."

There were no words to describe the look on Levi's face as he glared at his subordinate. Armin froze, whatever confidence he had managed to gather slipping away, his fingers grip on the book's spine tightening. The knife in the captain's hands suddenly had a different presence.

He wasn't even going to bother apologzing. It wouldn't do any good. Then he figured he should probably start giving an explanation and racked his brain for words.

"Anyway, so this book—well, Eren and Mikasa should hear this, too. Where are they?"

"Upstairs," Levi replied with a heavy tone. "Napping, I think. Don't go bothering them."

"Why not?" Their eyes met, and Armin could see that something was wrong. More things concerned the captain than just clean blades.

It was a moment before he spoke, but when he finally did, Armin could barely hear the smokey voice over the pelts of fading rain on the roof. "Mikasa was having contractions earlier, but it seems they were just false ones. Hanji went looking for a doctor and still hasn't returned."

"Already?! Isn't it a little early for that?"

"Yes, it is-"

Levi's voice caught in his throat as the atmosphere around them had suddenly changed. An unknown tension sprinkled down into the air, settling down on the two of them like a snowfall.

As expected, Levi was the first to move, already thinking steps ahead and blurting out orders under his breath before Armin could gather his thoughts. He could feel an onslaught of panic forming and swallowed a recurring lump in his throat, keeping his nerves at bay to the best of his ability. His feet were hesistant to move.

It was happening. There was only a fraction of time left and he knew he couldn't waste any of it.

Levi strode back into the room, dragging Historia—who carried some rope and was busy messing up her hair-by the wrist, before Armin had realized he was gone.

"Armin," he spat, words quiet and running from his mouth like pouring water. "Go grab them and initate the escape plan." Nodding with a sick stomach, the blond raced to the stairs, briefly meeting eyes with Historia. She looked ready to burst into tears, as if she hadn't already done quite a bit of that.

He lept up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Eren, who must have heard the commotion, was standing in the doorway at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked, detecting the tension and suddenly he was alert.

"No time to explain," Armin said, keeping his voice low. "Is Mikasa still sleeping."

"Yeah," Eren said, gesturing to the room behind him. "She just fell asleep actually. She had a rough day." Armin sighed in anguish, eyeing her sleeping, slender figure beneath the blankets she slept under. With that in mind, he felt terrible for what he was about to say. The last thing he wanted was to disturb her, especially knowing how tired she had been lately.

"Grab her," he instructed. "Wake her up, carry her, doesn't matter. Just grab her and follow me. And stay quiet." He started to move his feet again, but Eren's firm hand caught him around the shoulder and twisted him back to face him.

"Armin, what's going on?" Eren started to argue. He hated being left out of the loop. "Talk to me."

"I said there's no time to explain. We have to go, so please just trust me and move." For a long second, their eyes fought through the tension, Eren's trying to understand and Armin's pleading. What he found was convincing enough, and Armin had asked for his trust, something that he always had. So Eren released him and nodded, turning around and leaving Armin to do what he needed.

Meanwhile, the blond returned the nod and dashed down the hallway, making a quick left into the room he shared with the captain.

There were two beds, one of them never used. At the end of the other was a trunk, which Armin knelt in front of and struggled to open with shaking, yet determined fingers. He scooped up the contents with an arm, swinging a backpack over his shoulder and quickly shoving his satchel into a second backpack.

A checklist formed in his head, Armin quickly ran through it and made sure he'd packed the bare minimum of essentials. He thought he had everything, but couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something.

It was then that he could hear the shouting, somewhere down the road in the distant, crystal clear in the foggy air left behind from the rain. Eyes shifting to the window, he could see that the sky was itching closer and closer to the navy hues hidden behind the day sky. The sun would be setting within the hour, and they had no more time.

Something in his stomach sank to the floor, and he was on his feet and out the door before he realized he was moving. The backpacking in his hand was zipped and Eren was just rushing from the door, dragging Mikasa behind him, who had a brown trenchcoat wrapped around her shoulders and closed with her other hand.

Sleep was evident in her eyes, and the bags beneath them sagged with his guilty conscience. As always, her instincts were keen and without words she was aware of the situation.

"Go," Armin urged, waving to the stairs. He practically shoved them down the flight, Eren leading with Armin taking up the rear. Once at the bottom he shoved the backpack into Eren's hands and directed them to the trapdoor leading to the cellar, where he knew Levi and Historia were waiting, initiating their part of the escape.

Eren was momentarily confused, feet shuffling in a general direction as he fumbled with the backpack, so Mikasa took her turn to lead and whisked the two of them away. Armin darted for the mudroom to grab the first three pairs of boots he could get his hands on.

The shouts outside were louder, closer. Dangerously close. He was so panicked that he felt he would faint, but the adrenaline bursting through his system so loudly he could hear it in his ears, kept him moving.

Levi had shut of the lights, so he struggled through the evening lighting to the door, stepping down into it carefully. His arm was grabbed and he was yanked inside, strumbling onto the platform and all but thrown down the stairs. He was caught at the bottom by Eren, while at the top Levi shut, locked, and barricaded the door.

A lantern was lit, sitting on the musty floor. Mikasa grabbed the boots from his arms, sorting them into pairs and giving Eren the largest size, keeping the smaller size for herself. Armin was stuck with the middle pair, but the last thing on his mind was whether or not his shoes fit.

The trio shrugged into the boots and waited for orders. Levi was at the bottom of the stairs, already inside his harness.

"Armin," he finally spoke. "Where were you?"

"I was in town," the blond replied slowly, as quietly as he could manage.

"Were you followed?" It was then that the seriousness of the situation arose. The danger that had been so ignored from its long, avoided absence, was falling upon them in a single crumble.

Suddenly, upstairs, all five of them could hear the front door being broken through. Dirt and dust floated down in sprinkles from the weight and impact of footsteps.

Eeren's eyes widened, then fully understanding. They were being invaded. The three of them were going to escapr while Historia and Levi stayed behind. Historia was tied to a chair in the back of the cellar to appear as a hostage, and Levi was busy attaching his maneuver gear.

"Go," the captain commanded. Eren refused to move.

"We're not leaving you behind," he insisted, but his argue went ignored. Both Armin and Mikasa grabbed him around the arms and pulled, Mikasa inquiring about the escape route.

"Stay alive," Levi said, slipping a knife into Historia's hands from behind and picking up a firearm.

Of course Eren knew what his priorities should have been. But was it really okay for them to leave Levi to fight by himself? Against who knows how many of the Military Policemen?

And Historia? Was it really okay to tie her up and leave her otherwise defenseless? She was a distraction, obviously, but what is the raiders didn't recognize her? Or worse, what if they didn't care? What if she was shot and killed under orders?

Her eyes, the last glimpse Eren got of them before he rounded a corner and never saw again, held a haunting image in them, one that ultamitely convinced him to run.

She was telling to go, the message so clear he could practically hear the words in that selfish, deadpan voice of hers. Live for himself, live for Mikasa and Armin. And then he remembered a time where she had said those very words to Ymir.

Under his breath, heavy and panting as he ran, Eren thanked her. He thought about Levi, too, and wondered what sort of wordless, empty goodbye he would have gotten out of the smaller man's eyes had he decided to look.

Probably nothing. Jean would have called him a dumbass, Connie would have pushed him out the door with some inappropriate comment to make him smile, and Sasha would have ruffled his hair and stolen food if anything were in his hands or pocket and he wouldn't have noticed until later on.

Tears touched his eyes, remembering a day where Armin and Mikasa hd run off to uncertain death, and for his sake nonetheless. At least this time they were by his side, and also carry the burden of a comrade's death on their shoulders so he wouldn't be alone.

"Armin, where does this lead?" he asked, settling his eyes on the walls of the tunnel lining them. He didn't even know this tunnel was here, connected to the house. What else was there that he didn't know?

"It's about a mile long," he explained, resting on his knees from the heavy lifting. "It leads to a farm. We're going to be borrowing some horses."

"And from there?" Eren inquired, squinting through the darkness at his friend. "What's the plan then, other than abandoning our comrades?" Even if it was an arugably necessary action, he was still bitter.

"Getting us over the wall."

"And when did you guys decide on this plan behind my back?"

"We didn't. I decided it just now." Armin hated lying to him.

"Yeah? And how did you just conveniently know about this tunnel?"

"I saw it in the blueprints, back when we were searching for somewhere new to hide. It's half the reason I insisted on picking this place."

Then they started hearing gunshots and shouts echoing down the tunnel, and so their footsteps doubled in pace.

"Damn it!" Eren cursed, throwing his fist into the cement wall and dragging it along with him as he ran. "Why the hell does everybody have to die?"

"I don't think they're going to die," Mikasa said, her voice calm and her breath running worn. "Especially not Levi."

"Let's just keep moving," Armin said, eager to put as much distance between them and the chaos ensuing behind them. At first they continued in running, but as they grew closer and closer to sprinting with the rise in noise behind them, Mikasa expressed discomfort, grabbing her bump and stopping to catch her breath. Eren took her on his back for the last stretch of the tunnel until they reached the end.

Awaiting them was a circular exit on the ceiling, with a ladder leading up to the hole.

"I'll go first," Armin said, holding out his lantern for someone to grab, Mikasa hopping down from Eren and reaching out for it.

"No," Eren said, stepping in front of Armin and placing a foot on one of the ladder's rungs. "I should. They followed you, remember? They'll be looking for blond hair." Armin nodded, averting his gaze away. He still felt immensely guilty. He'd been too excited with his findings that he'd forgotten to follow safety precautions.

Then, a comforting hand rested on his shoulder, and Armin looked up to fine Mikasa's dark eyes glowing orange, like embers. No words needed to be spoken aloud for him to know exactly what her thin-lipped smile was telling him.

Eren thrust his lantern out for someone to grab, then hoisted himself up with ease onto the ladder. The exit was dark, a thin source of dim light seeping through the crack in the ring. Tentatively, Eren pushed up on it with a single hand. An inch cracked and they could hear the sounds of the late evening turning into the night; crickets chirped, corn husks bristled in the breeze, the moans of cattle drifted around with the whinnying of horses locked in their stables.

The three of them listened intently for any other sounds, voices or footsteps, and eventually they were all calmed enough, despite their nerves, for Eren to peek through.

Mikasa and Armin waited with breaths held in, hearts racing and waiting for the impending cries of someone spotting him and halting their getaway. They had nowhere else to run from here.

The area seemed to be safe, because Eren shoved the rim aside and pulled himself through the hole, pausing to kneel beside it, keeping low.

"I don't see anyone, but we need to hurry," he murmured. "Are there matches in these backpacks, Armin? Because we should probably put the lanterns out." Armin nodded, hiding his irritation. Of course he would pack matches.

Mikasa blew out both flames in her hands and passed them up to Eren, before starting up the ladder, Armin following close behind. Once all three of them were above ground, they moved the rim back in place over the hole and covered it with kicked dirt.

It was unanimously that Mikasa would sneak into the stable while the other two kept watch. After all, even with the extra weight she carried, she was the quickest on her feet.

The silhoutte of the stable could be seen some distance away, resting against the glowing, darkening sky. The sun had disappeared behind hills not too long ago, and so they hoped nobody would be out working in the farmland. The sounds of whinnying covered the crunches of their feet over fallen husks and the brushing of the corn stalks as they pushed them aside. Mikasa, leading the group, paused just before an open path in front of them, checking for anyone before pushing through into the light.

Rather than using the gate and risk being seen, Mikasa leapt straight over the railing, landing on a bale of hay inside. The horse inside was startled by the sudden appearance of someone launching themselves into its stall. Mikasa pat its neck to keep it calm, cooing even. Once it appeared at ease, she ducked again, slipping over to the gate and opening it. Her eyes swept down the aisle and searched for a riding equipment.

"Hurry, Mikasa," she heard one of the boys whisper. Fear of being seen nearly stuck her in place, but she fought it off quickly and continued in her scurry.

Her hands swiped two sets of the equipment of the shelves without making a sound, and her feet carried her into the nearest stall. The first horse was fitted in a matter of moments, and as she ducked into the next stall she left the previous one open, saddled the second and led it out, reaching for the reigns of the first horse and pulling both out of the back exit.

Armin and Eren were waiting outside, Mikasa throwing herself up onto one of the saddles and passing the reigns of the second to Armin. Eren climbed up ungracefully behind her and checked their backs as she flipped the reigns, launching them forward down a dirt path.

"Where are we going, Armin?" she murmured, keeping her horse as close to his as she could manage.

"First we need to get out of here and away from the town," he replied, picking up speed. Mikasa followed his lead. He led the way past the corn field, out of the farm's vicinity and headed in the opposite way of the town. Eren spared one last look behind them as they sped away, wondering the fates of those left abandoned.

#

"There," Armin said, his voice carrying through the darkness with ease. With the lantern in Eren's hand raised, Mikasa could see his arm pointing towards the vague outline of what looked like a large shed. "That's a supply house," she said, recognizing it immediately. There used to be many of them, owned by the Survey Corps, both inside and outside the walls.

"We're lucky," he replied. "It looks like there are a few carts outside. I was hoping for that." They came to a stop beside the shed, Armin being the first to dismount and Eren following suit. Mikasa stayed behind, holding onto Armin's horse while Eren hooked a cart onto hers, hurrying into the shed with Armin to load up the cart with supplies.

As they worked, Mikasa felt movement coming from inside her. The thought came to mind of how soon her child would be born, in no less than a handful of weeks. How would they perform the birth outside of the walls, when the time eventually came?

Armin approached her with something in his hands, forcing her thoughts to the back of her mind. It was something they would deal with later.

"I found some mittens," he explained, holding them up to her. They were red, the same as her scarf. "I don't know if they're your size but I figured it was better to have them than to not. It's going to be the cold season soon." Mikasa took them from him with a grateful smile, and when their eyes met, Armin could tell she knew that the three of them weren't going to be together much longer.

She set the gloves in her lap and took his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. He linked his fingers through hers and squeezed back, his other hand finding its way to her belly, all the goodbyes they could never speak passing between them in an instant. Ten long years were finally coming to an end.

Somehow she knew. He didn't know how, but she knew. The urge to cry was overwhelming but Armin couldn't let himself grieve. He pulled his hands away, pushing back the deep sadness in his gut. Now was not the time to mourn, and he didn't want Eren to figure out the plan and object to it while he still could.

"Take care of yourself," she whispered, voice layered in anguish so much that he could hardly recognize her. "Please remember how strong you are."

"You too," he said, his voice deep with emotion and getting caught in his throat. He turned away, leaving her to wipe her eyes and to slide red wool onto cold fingers, returning to the shed to help Eren sort through the supplies and load the cart.

#

Stomachs sank as the wall grew taller in the distance, the horses carrying them forward. The goodbye was approaching and the anxiety in Armin's stomach was growing exponentially.

"I assume we're looking for a lift station," Eren called out. All of them knew that there were no stationary guards out here at this far out from the district, and news of any fugitives would not spread quickly enough before they made it to the wall. Time was on their side, but they hadn't a clue how much they had at their disposal.

They found what they were looking for in a matter of minutes, and got to work immediately.

Eren and Armin worked to lower the lift, while Mikasa steered the horse on with the cart, Armin standing by its head and patting its neck for comfort. Eren operated the lift and slowly creaked them upwards. Mikasa held the lanterns for lighting, watching the dark ground slowly get further and further away. The next time she was on the ground it would be in Titan territory.

At the top of the wall, Armin struggled to breathe. The air was thin, which he was used to. But he was about to make a decision that he wasn't sure he could live with.

Eren noticed hesitation in Armin. His friend was shaking, more from just nerves and adrenaline. And he was avoiding him, and preparing the lift for the descent to the other side.

"Aren't we going to bring up your horse as well?" he asked, suspicion unhidden. Armin froze, feeling the green eyes in his back like daggers. Mikasa said nothing, and he could feel her eyes on him as well.

He stood up straight, inhaled deeply, and fought back the prickling in his eyes.

"No," he said, wondering if he sounded brave.

"No?" Eren asked incredulously. "Well we can't just leave him tethered to the wall. One of us has to go down there and-" Then Armin tured to face him.

"Eren, I'm not coming with you two."

He was taken aback, the silence filled with confusion. Mikasa stared into her lap, her hands balling into fists. She could hear the conflict in Armin's voice and closed her eyes.

"What do you mean you're not coming with us? Of course you are," Eren said. "It's always been the three of us. We're in this together."

Armin couldn't hold back the tears, but his tone remained confident.

"I decided I'm going back to help Levi-heichou and the others. And if I'm still alive after that, I'll do whatever I can to follow you and find you guys again." His words rattled in the air like dry bones, and the pulse in his ears drowned out the silence.

"Armin," Eren said softly, reaching out to his shoulder. "We're not-"

"Eren," Mikasa cut him off, dismounting from the horse and passing the reigns to him. "This is Armin's choice to make, not yours or mine. So we need to support him." Eren said nothing, biting back the retorts on his tongue. He knew she was right but he didn't like it.

He watched as she approached the blond, embracing him like a mother would to her child. And suddenly, in his head, he saw a different woman, hugging a younger version of himself. A sad mother supporting her son in a decision she disagreed with enitrely.

His heart felt bittersweet, and he couldn't stop himself from hugging the both of them for the longest time.

Eventually Armin took the initiative to send them off, remembering what it was that he insisted on doing and how extremely pressed for time he was.

"Take care of yourself," Eren said, looking Armin square in the eye, hands resting on his shoulders.

"And you remember why you're going through with all of this," Armin replied, wet tears drying on his cheeks. "It's safer out there than it is in here. And don't die."

Eren cracked a grin. "If I haven't died yet after all this shit happened, then I can't die, right?" Armin smiled at the attempt of a grim joke, all the same. "Besides. I'll have Mikasa watching my ass."

"Is that all she'll be doing?" he joked.

"Armin," Mikasa snapped, her face beginning to grow red. He chuckled and blushed apologetically.

"Sorry," he said. "But I had to. Connie would have."

"And Sasha would have added fuel to the fire and made it worse," Eren added with sentiments.

"We should go, so you can go," Mikasa said. Someone had to get the hard part out of the way.

And before he lowered the lift, before falling to his knees grasping at his heart, suffocating and screaming with the anticipated pain of waking the next day without the last remnants of his family, Mikasa clung to him one last time. She was so warm, so kind, and he was put at a faint sense of ease knowing he was leaving her in good hands.

As they had pulled away, his fingertips fluttered from her bumb, where they had been resting. It pained him to wonder if he would ever get to see the child inside.


	4. Chapter 4

trepidation: (n) a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen  
syn: unease, anxiety, apprehension

It was almost like he'd never been on the other side of the wall.

His vision creased around the edges, the feeble light of lanterns he held in one hand was swallowed up by the night weighing heavily on their shoulders. The blackness was maddening for the first mile or so. Corrupting. Practically hell.

This was the vison he'd lived through every night; dark, charging headfirst into nothingness with fear and bravery colliding. His nightmares had come to life. He couldn't escape that fact no matter how many times he scrunched his eyes closed and opened them again, desperate to see something new.

Each breath was a burst of air in his ears. The wind toyed with his hair and the crickets droned on and on as they raced past whatever lied beyond their reach of their lanterns. Not that he wanted to see it, because he already knew.

This was worse than the first expedition, Eren realized. Back then he hadn't been blind to idle Titans lurking around them, let alone the fact that he was in the middle of formation and surrounded by a handful of elite veterans to ensure his safety. The fact once drilled into his head about the mysterious creatures' especially mysterious nightly inactivity did little to calm his nerves.

Mikasa helped to the best of her ability.

She'd spoken kind words of ease, reminding him of the unending bravery he used to brag about and their duty as soldiers to carry out a mission. At the same time—almost like she had planned this—the little life forming under her skin turned in its sleep, a gentle reassurance that this was not at all like his nightmares.

He was not alone, he had a purpose, and there was something he could be happy about.

Eren's grip tightened suddenly, making her jump. He held her close, the curve of her back melding into his front the way he liked it. Warm, comforting, and secure.

He rested his chin on her shoulder tenderly, affectionately even, and a sudden realization left her in need of whipping the reigns unecessarily to get her sights in check. This closeness was familiar and yet it was new; they had never been this alone with each other.

And perhaps, had it not been that way, she likely would have been unable to find the strength to leave the wall, to carry out this mission. And of course, like he always managed to do, Eren somehow read her mind through her body.

"We're not abandoning anybody," he said lowly in her ear, maybe more to himself than to her. Either way, he spoke the unspoken thoughts that were brooding in both of their heads. It was a reminder that they both needed. Everybody had planned for and took action for this to happen.

On other nights, Mikasa would have normally countered him with doubts. How could they be so sure this was the right thing? What if they were just crazy in the end? But now it was too late to ask those questions.

Armin's name very quickly became taboo.

It was a fresh wound, deep and painful. However it went unnoticed until Mikasa heard the sounds of rushing water and changed course abruptly. Eren didn't question her choice at first. Rather, he held out the lantern as far in front of her face as he could reach to assist her, soon illuminating the ripples of a river like the silk strands of lost dreams he hadn't seen in a decade.

She stopped the horse some distance from the water and dismounted. Eren voiced his concerns after a moment, while she turned to the horse and pat its neck comfortingly.

"She needs a drink," Mikasa simply replied, guiding the steed to the river in what little light there was. Eren, satisfied with the answer, began to dismount as well.

"I think I should be riding in the cart," she said, once he was on his feet and stretching his arms above his head.

"Why is that?" Eren asked. He darted in front of the horse to stand beside her with the lantern. His eyes lowered and settled on the baby, as she let go of the reigns to let one hand rest on the bumb. Then it hit him. "Oh, right." He wanted to punch himself. He couldn't believe they had been so careless.

With his free hand, Eren pulled the reigns out of Mikasa's grip and stepped forward to the water's edge. Then, turning his head over his shoulder, he met her waiting eyes.

"I know for sure there's a harness and a set of mobility gear in one of the crates," he said. She understood without further explanation. With a nod, she turned and skipped around to the back of the cart and stepped up into it with care. Of course, even with the lack of direction, she found what she was looking for almost immediately.

Minutes passed in silence, accompanied by the river and sounds of nature playing its course. Neither of them had quite digested the reality of the situation, and thus weren't ready to talk as if everything was normal. But it wasn't awkward, either. More like they were just adapting and neither of them minded the silence as long as they were still together.

Soon the horse's thirst was sated, and by then Mikasa had finished assembling the pieces of the harness. Surprisingly, too, considering she had such a dim light source. Still, she struggled, and he noticed.

"Need help?" he offered. The harness had been used last by someone much bigger than her, someone who was very likely dead, and she had haphazardly tightened the straps simply to keep them from falling off before they were all connected. She nodded to his question, sitting on the cart's edge to work on the bottom half while he fixed the top.

Teamwork made the job get done quickly. The leg belts were the easier part; it was the torso, more specifically the shoulders and the waist belt, that took the longest. But Mikasa was patient and let Eren take his time, feelings his fings tremble with jittery nerves and desire to act.

The silence wass filled by the unfamiliar sounds of inhabitated night; the crickets were numerous, the wind was strong, and the trees whispered secrets to them that they couldn't decipher. It still hadn't yet hit them, the loneliness of isolation. They had only traveled so far beyond Wall Rose that they could very easily turn back, and probably reach Squad Levi and assist them if they needed it.

He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts. He knew what would become of them.

So, he was itching to get moving. It was nothing more than a battle now, to keep himself distracted before his crippling despair caught up to him. He pulled on a belt a little more tightly than intended, forcing out a short gasp from Mikasa.

"Sorry," he muttered, loosening the belt and redoing it with care.

"I can do it if you—" she began, but Eren cut her off.

"No, it's fine."

"You can look at the map and figure out a route instead," she insisted.

"I said it's fine," he snapped. "You look at the map." He paused, pulling his hands away for a moment to remove Armin's backpack. He all but dumped it into her lap and clamped his mouth shut, knowing it was better to not say anything more.

He realized what a sharp tone he'd used. He almost didn't care, either, but when he heard her sigh with unmistakable frustration, guilt was his repurcussion.

Eren had promised himself he wouldn't take out his feelings on her. Even if she was used to it, claimed she didn't mind, he hated that he did it. He wasn't a selfish person, nor was he self-centered. But he also knew, very well in fact, that considering the feelings of others wasn't always his strong suit. It wasn't the way he worked.

And Mikasa knew that as well. She had ground her teeth, refusing to fight with him. They were both stressed. Painfully obviously so. Because of this, she let Eren have his distraction, and unzipped the backpack.

Inside, at the very top, was a satchel that she recognized as Armin's. She pulled it out carefully, setting the backpack on the cart. Her hand only barely darted inside the pouch before she paused.

For whatever reason that he never bothered to explain, Eren sighed, his warm huff of a breath parting the light strands of her hair and tickling the skin beneath. First his hands gravitated to her shoulders, then down her upper arms, cupping the muscles tensely, like his hands didn't know where to go or what they wanted to do.

They settled on coming together around her front, closing around her in a tight, apologetic embrace. His arms were warm, and strong. However she could still sense his fright despite his naturally brave demeanor. Even if he was managing to bury it beneath a mask. Perhaps the distractions were paying off, and she was just too intuitive.

Even so, it didn't matter in that brief moment. She enjoyed his closeness but Eren's comfort with displaying affection was in stark contrast of his pain tolerance. He pulled away just as quickly as he had come, apology accepted all the same.

They were even quieter than before. But maybe now it was a little more awkward. Or was that just her?

Her thoughts lingered on him, the image of his arms wrapped around her in a way that he'd only done when they were sleeping. The night was chilly but he was warm despite it; it kept her grounded.

Then she wondered; what did they look like, in that embrace, in the eyes of an onlooker? And that thought morphed into others. What were they to each other? Let alone what did someone else think if they saw him hug her they way he did? Would they think of them as friends? As lovers? As brother and sister?

Then it dawned on her that she needn't worry about something as meager and unimportant as appearances. Out here, there was nobody else. They were alone. Perhaps that was the reason behind his embrace. And maybe, despite the word not exactly describing the essence of his character, Eren was just shy. In his own way, that is.

Insecure was a better word, she decided, after some careful thought. But she left it at that and said nothing, letting the moment pass on with the wind that touselled her tresses.

"I think we should cut your hair," he said softly. "It's getting long again."

She agreed, but it could be done later. They had other pressing matters at the moment, like the fact that they were sitting ducks. They had to get moving soon.

"I can finish this," Mikasa said. She pushed his hands aside in place of her own, taking over. "You should check to make sure that's actually one of ours," she said. From the distance, she eyed the patient animal with curious eyes. It was a simple, chocolate brown, the same color as the few horses that were once in their possession. But they couldn't be too sure.

"Considering how fast she was running I'm pretty sure she is," Eren said, stepping back from the cart. "She's probably out of shape, though." Survey Corps horses used to have regular exercises keep their famous statistics in check, but due to recent happenings of the past several years, that system more or less fell apart. That, and the horses were sold months ago.

While Eren inspected the horse, Mikasa finished adjusting her harness, then stepped off the cart and paused at Eren's side. He didn't look at her, so she knelt to her knees and opened up the satchel, breathing heavily as she did so.

Inside she found what she was hoping to find; right on top was a map, ambigious as it was, as well as a compass. Leave it to Armin to be prepared.

"They were taking good care of her," Eren said. "Her hooves need a little cleaning but that's about it."

"Is she one of ours?"

"I'm pretty sure it's Sannibel," he said, confirming the suspicion. "The tattoo on her lip is faded but it matches."

"I don't remember who Sannibel belonged to." Her question hung in the air like a wet sheet on a clothesline, heavy and weighing. And it was the question he was hoping she wouldn't ask.

"Jean," Eren answered hesitantly, an audible lump in his throat. It felt odd to hear his name spoken aloud. He hadn't said it nor heard it in a very, very long time.

"Oh." She bit her lip. Hard. Speaking the names of the dead tasted as bad as salt in an open wound. "At least she's still healthy," she said, quickly changing the subject. She looked back down at the map she had spread over the dirt and ran her hands across its grainy surface to flatten it out. "The last thing we need is to be bucked off and abandoned once we start running into Titans."

"You say that like we plan on running into them," Eren deadpanned. It was meant to be lighthearted but wasn't spoken quite so. She didn't even look at him.

Furrowing his brow, he knelt down across from Mikasa and watched her work a route onto the parchment with an old pencil, bite indents grazing the insides of her fingers. Their friend had always been on the anxious side with his little quirks.

"Well we're going to Maria, right? To Shiganshina?"

"Yeah, that's the plan," he said.

"It's bound to be full of them, you know that."

"Hence why we're only going to travel at night. It's safer that way."

"But what are we going to do when the baby is born?" she asked, looking up from her work to meet his eyes. "We can't make her nocturnal."

"Her?" He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "What makes you think it's going to be a girl?"

"Intuition," she said with a smirk, cocking her head to the side as if daring him to test her theory.

"Intuition has nothing to do with it," he argued. "If you're right it's just through dumb luck and nothing else."

"Why? Do you think it's going to be a boy?"

"I wouldn't mind either one."

"That's not what I asked," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Fine. Yes. I think it's going to be a boy." He sighed frustratedly. "Look, we'll figure out all the dumb parent details when we get there. Are you done with that map yet?"

"Just give me a few more minutes," she said apologetically, hurriedly getting back to her work. She was satisfied with Eren's answer, for now. He was right; they would work out plans later, when it mattered more.

He watched Mikasa trace the paper with fervor, until he noticed the bag beside her. Eren could feel his stomach drop as he thought of the owner, but reached for it nonetheless. Curiosity as to his friend's personal belongings outweighed his self control, and he glanced inside.

He almost wished he hadn't.

The biggest and probably most important thing was a book that Eren had never seen before. He only saw the spine at first, but without even pulling it out, the title told him exactly what it was.

"Mikasa, look at this," he said with awe, removing the book from the bag and setting the latter aside, holding it up for her. In the flickering light she could read, with certainty, Brining Baby Home. And less certainly, in a subtitle text, The Certified Medical Manual For Planned and Emergency Home Deliveries. She only stared while Eren started to flip through the pages, quickly reading little excerpts here and there. "Armin is a genius."

"Eren, we can read that later. We should get going, soon."

"I'm just waiting on you," he said, closing the book and setting it down beside him.

"I'm almost done, I promise."

It took a lot of effort not to roll his eyes. He learned a long time ago that his definition and her definition of the word 'almost' were practically two separate entities.

There was more in the bag than just the baby book. There wasn't much, but at the bottom was another pencil, a bruised banana, and Armin's wallet.

"Well now this money is completely useless," Eren said, pulling it out and showing it to Mikasa. "Might as well save it to wipe my ass with."

"Leave it alone, and please watch your language," she scolded, rolling her eyes at him. Now was not the time to be making jokes, nor was his vulagarity appreciated.

"That's everything that's in here," he said, taking the bottom of the bag and hoisting it in the air, the contents dumping out onto the dirt. "Oh, and there's a notebook, too," he added.

"Eren, honestly," she said, snatching his wrist in the air. "That's enough. It's Armin's stuff, so respect it."

The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. "Yeah, but Armin's not here."

Her eyes stilled first, freezing into thick black rings of ice.

Her fingers tightened around his wrist, then she blinked and stared at the ground. Eren, who had been grinning slyly with the thought of messing with his best friend's belongings while he wasn't around, suddenly realized the impact of what he'd just said. He felt like he'd just been slapped across the face, and by his own hand.

He could feel the bag slipping from his hand so he set it on the ground. He stared at it with longing eyes; it wasn't all that long ago since he'd last seen him. Maybe an hour? What was Armin doing at this moment? He was going to head back to Levi and help with the MP's ambush; was he still alive?

"I'm sure he's fine," Mikasa muttered, her voice wavering unconvincingly. He didn't have to look to know she was on the verge of tears, but was fighting them back expertly. She let go of his wrist and folded the map up hastily, standing up seconds later. She reached her arm out for Eren's hand.

He stared at it blankly. A familiar stinging touched his eyes and he reached up instinctively to wipe away tears before they formed.

She had seen that look in his eyes months ago, when they first started this whole trainwreck. Back in the stables, where she had witnessed him give into his fears and did the same, herself. He had been brave then. Where was his courage now?

Half of it was standing in front of him, brushing too-short of bangs behind her ears that fell back into place between her eyes. It was growing inside of her, as well, in a lump that had grown much bigger than he anticipated. The other half he couldn't say for certain, but if he knew Armin well, (and he did), the blond was hurting from the separation, no matter how brave a face he faked.

Words couldn't describe the weight on his heart, knowing how alone Armin must have felt. And yet they left him, anyway.

"Eren," Mikasa said, squatting back down in front of him, resting her elbows on her knees. She grabbed his hand while she spoke. "We did not abandon him. We are not abandoning anyone. Just like you said."

It took him a minute, but he knew she was right. He had said that, practically minutes ago. They all knew what they were getting themselves into, Armin included.

Eren wasn't expecting the fear to settle in so quickly. They knew what they were doing, but only what they were going to do. There was no telling what could happen, inside the Walls with his friends, and outside the Walls, with Mikasa and the baby.

The worst that could happen was their untimely demise, which would undoubtedly lead to humanity's ultimate downfall. The best that could happen was...what? Why were they even out here? He knew why; it had been engrained in him since day one. But it seemed so pointless, in hindsight. Stupid, even.

She shook him out of his thoughts by standing and pulling him up with her. He wiped his brow with his forearm and looked down at her, surprised to find a smile on her lips. Small, gentle, and barely there, but he could see it.

It made Eren wonder how she could always tell what he was thinking. It was a gift, he supposed. Mikasa was always very intuitive like that.

He was even more surprised when she hugged him, taking him into her arms and resting her chin on his shoulder. The noises in the background had faded out awhile ago, but suddenly the river was coarsing through him and the wind was cold in his ears, like they had gone away and come back again.

It was the fear he always tried to ignore. He gave into it once; there was no need to embrace it again. Still, he felt better when he hugged her back, taking in her warmth. It was awkward, leaning in so as to not press into her obstrusive baby bump, but it was nice all the same.

When they pulled away, she handed the map to him and unfolded it. Since he would be the one riding Sannibel, she explained the route to him in quick but thorough detail. And soon after, they were off.

# # # #

With a few stops to give Sannibel a break at regular intervals, it took a couple hours to reach Shiganshina District. They traveled east, staying relatively close to Wall Rose until they reached one of the forests scattered out at random between the walls. Despite each vast expanse of trees looking the same, they had come to recognize them and tell them apart thanks to the few expeditions they'd traveled.

As they passed through on an old, beaten path, shielded from the moonlight by a canopy of trees, Mikasa took in the surroundings with a speculative vigor. It wasn't uncommon for a soon-to-be-mother to have nesting urges, the desire to prepare the home for the baby. It was something she had fought for the past month or so, back at the house Squad Levi had rented. But now that they didn't have a home, the urge was even stronger.

And yet, she knew it was something she had to continue to ignore, another addition to the list of things they would address once they made it to Shiganshina and inspected the basement.

Eren interrupted her thoughts for the umpteenth time that night, snapping her out of the half-asleep daze she had fallen into.

"Hey, Mikasa?" he began, looking at her over his shoulder. Her eyes flashed open; she hadn't even realized they closed. She responded by meeting his eyes, inviting him to continue. "Back when the Survey Corps went on expeditions, why didn't they just travel by night? Sure, it's a little scarier since you can't see the Titans, so they're a little harder to avoid. But they're all asleep, right? Doesn't that just make more sense?"

Mikasa didn't reply. Instead she just shrugged at him. There were plenty of ways she could answer his question but it wasn't worth the effort. She was positive he was mostly joking, anyway. His smirk at her lack of response further confirmed her suspicion. They then continued to ride on in comfortable silence, the atmosphere a little lighter than before.

From the forest they changed course, heading due south to Maria. Soon, thanks to the light of the moon, they could see the seemingly ancient top of the wall, an old horizon that had long since been abandoned.

Eren was grateful that they couldn't see all that well in the dark. He could only imagine the remaining skeletons of body parts that hadn't been eaten all those years ago. It was sickening enough, the sounds of bones cracking beneath the wagon's wheels. He could sleep better without the visual.

The moon was low, quickly disappearing behind the wall as they approached it. They had another hour until sunrise, if that. But Shiganshina wasn't far so he wasn't worried. He even vaguely recognized the area, what wasn't destroyed of it, anyway.

Something Eren couldn't identify bubbled in his stomach. He could feel the anxiety swelling, and it wasn't just because they were alone and traveling among Titans. It wasn't just because he had left his home to return to an old one, both of them destroyed but by different enemies.

It was nostalgia, a bittersweet emotion that Eren loathed. It was like all those harbored feelings he'd once held in a small child's body were coming back to him, memories of utmost terror and insufferable pain and fleeting bouts of insanity reigniting in him, as deep as his bones.

There was the hole in the wall where the gate had once been. Fire burned in his stomach, acid rose in his throat at the memory, the vivid imagery as he watched humanity lose a third of the little space they had left playing behind his eyes. It was something he'd never forgotten but tried to not think about. The wound had only deepened when he learned it was someone he once looked up to that had created that fucking hole.

And it was in that very river, the one he brought Sannibel to a stop beside, that the three of them had fled by boat to safety, abandoning the scattered skeletons at his feet. What was his life, compared to these? He wasn't anyone important, just a punk little kid who'd watched his mother get eaten.

Suddenly the key on his necklace weighed a lot more than it should have. He pulled it out from his shirt, twisting the bronze around in his fingers. He'd memorized the peculiar shape ages ago, ran his fingers along the brassy edges countless times while he tried to sleep. It was smooth, lighter than it looked, and almost always warm, breathing against his chest.

All those years Eren had thought long and hard about the secrets that this key could unlock, everything his father had entrusted to him. He had been held down and had the key tied to his hand, a blurry memory that Eren could never be sure was real or just a nightmare. Despite all that, it had been ingrained so deep into him to not lose the key, to the point where Eren was constantly checking to make sure it's still around his neck.

All those years of wondering, frustratedly wishing he could be where he was standing at that moment, tethering the horse to a grail on the river gate. Why he hadn't done this sooner, back when he had the chance, was beyond him. Back when he first discovered his Titan powers, when he'd transformed to block the canon shell, as unrealistic as it seemed at the time, he could have done it. The three of them could have planned to escape overnight and make headway for Wall Maria before sunrise. Maybe not that very day, but it had still been plausible.

Eren wondered if had they done that, so many things could have been avoided. He couldn't even list the possibilities on his fingers, there were so many. But before he could get too consumed with the thought, wise words from his captain echoed in his ears and he forced himself to move on to the task at hand.

With the horse tethered and the sky starting to pale, Eren hurried over to the cart, putting out the lantern. They could relight it later when they needed it, so he left it on the cart.

Sometime between now and when they left the forest, Mikasa had fallen asleep. Eren didn't blame her; they pulled an all-nighter and she never handled sleep deprivation well ever since he'd known her. Especially being so far along in her term, she took naps often. They had been taking one earlier that day, in fact, before this mess of a night even started. He, on the other hand, was wide awake, courtesy of his insomnia and adrenaline rush.

First things first, Eren detached the cart from Sannibel so she could roam as far as the tether would allow, to the water or to the grass that lined the river. It was heavy, but he managed to push it closer to the wall, scraping the sides against the cement surface and kicking rocks under the wheels to keep it in place. The commotion caused Mikasa to stir.

She was rubbing her eyes when Eren started leaning over her, tucking the blanket around her. She mumbled his name sleepily, trying to stretch her aching body but forgetting she was sitting cramped between crates.

"I was going to let you sleep," he said gently, pulling away from her briefly to study her face. The bags under her eyes sagged terribly; getting only an hour's worth of sleep was even worse than no sleep at all, especially for her.

"I'm awake," Mikasa insisted, completely unconvincingly. Her eyes drooped even as she spoke, betraying her. She fought to keep them open, a rough battle that she almost won, but of course Eren knew better.

"Just go back to sleep," he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and bringing his lips to her forehead. He rested them there for a long moment, stroking the back of her head and sliding an arm under her legs. His coaxing worked; she didn't fight him anymore as he lifted her out of the cart with ease.

He was careful to keep the blanket around her frame as he adjusted her to his shoulder. She was conscious enough to wrap her arms around his neck, resting her face into the back of his neck. His arm held her secure around her thighs, her bump pressing into his ribs somewhat uncomfortably yet strangely comforting as well.

With his other arm free, Eren maneuvered them to the top of the wall. It was tricky, but he managed just fine.

For a long moment, once he got his bearings after the landing, Eren couldn't move. He stood, breathless, staring out over the expansive crumbles of the city. The sun wasn't yet ready to rise, but its rays still lit the air like a fire dimming in reverse.

He could see the outlines of buildings, where their structures went ajar and where their rubble for counterparts lay garbled on the streets. Eyes glancing about the town, Eren could pick out the exact road where his house once stood, and the awning under which he had tried to punch Hannes in the face for running away and leaving his mother to die.

His hometown, in shambles, just the way he'd left it.


End file.
